


Flight of Death

by BattleScarredKitsune, LilyofAzra



Series: The Master of Death [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Fire, Gray Dumbledore, Invisibility Cloak (Harry Potter), M/M, Maternal McGonagall, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2020-07-08 22:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19877125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattleScarredKitsune/pseuds/BattleScarredKitsune, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyofAzra/pseuds/LilyofAzra
Summary: Harry was marked by death from that October night. The scar that never healed. It meant more than he knew, more than he had ever dreamed of. For as long as he could remember death lingered in his dreams. Green flashes from when his parents died. How close he danced towards it under the cruel care of the Dursleys. His only reprieve a mysterious cloak given to him by an odd tabby. A place to hide where he could never be seen, and a voice that would whisper to him in his darkest moments.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is being cowritten with BattleScarredKitsune but they don't have an account. *Stares at them, whispers "You've been on this site for how long?" contiunes staring*
> 
> The abuse is only in the first two chapters. After that it gets better. There will be some characters who die, but it won't be anyone you like. Harry will be different due to difference in his upbringing, but hopefully at the core, he'll be full of sass. We will attempt to update every other week! Please let us know what you think or if you have suggestions/thoughts.

It was dark and damp, the stairs creaking about his head. He lay curled up on the old mattress, the tiny worn blanket barely covering his small frame. Shivers wracked his small form as he laid awake listening to the clock in the kitchen quietly ticking. A chime told him it was midnight and he whispered a small “happy birthday” to himself, wishing that maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad.

Eventually his eyes drifted shut, only for him to be startled awake, the sounds above his head like an earthquake. The stomping of feet made him curl up tighter into his blanket and he feared when he would hear the sliding of the bolt letting him out. This was a prison, but the outside was scarier.

The vent opened, light streaming in, “Wake up,” a screeching voice rasped through the metal. His aunt slid the bolt, hitting the door for added effect. If he wanted to eat, he needed to get up. Shakily, he got to his feet, opening the door and quietly leaving, the too big clothes rolled up so he wouldn’t trip. He once tripped into Dudley… he had bruises for a week.

His aunt and uncle gathered around the small table, Dudley between them. Harry kept his gaze down and pushed the stool closer to the stove. Rolling up his sleeves more, he began cooking what was left, taking extra care not to burn anything. Still, his hands were small and the pan full of eggs and bacon heavy. The fat spattered, burning his skin as he placed the food on plates. Even at five, he knew how to plate the food. Carefully, using both hands, he slid the pan to an unused burner and reached the knob on his tippy toes. 

Stepping down, he grabbed one full plate above his head and placed it in front of his uncle, a second in front of his aunt, and the third before Dudley, then he quickly left. There had been some scraps of food left that he had tried to cook. They were slightly burnt in some places and charred in others, but he ate what wasn’t blackened, curled up behind the small wall hiding him from his relatives. It was better than the scraps he first ate by letting it spill onto the floor. Aunt Petunia had scolded him and Uncle Vernon had thrown him into the cupboard. 

The clinking of forks on plates alerted him to wipe his hands and start collecting the dishes. They couldn’t know that he had some of the food. They would get mad again. Swiftly, he moved the stool next to the sink and then put the stopper in one half, turning on the water. Climbing down, he moved over to the table and started clearing the plates.

“Don’t break anything, boy, or you’ll be paying for it,” his uncle threatened. Even now, he knew he would “pay” for it with bruises and darkness. Sliding each plate into the sink one at a time, taking separate trips, he rolled up his dirty sleeves and began to wash the dishes, also trying to wash his own hands and arms, sticking them deep into the soapy water.

“Duddikins,” his aunt cooed, “what do you want to do today?”

“I wanna play the new video game! All my friends already have it,” Dudley whined. 

“Of course. Any present for you,” Aunt Petunia patted Dudley’s head.

“Only the best for our darling son,” Uncle Vernon’s deep voice rumbled as he turned a page in the newspaper. “Boy!” His uncle called him.

He practically ran to his uncle, “Y-yes?” he asked, fearing he might be hit.

“Take care of the garbage and take care of that mess!” he practically roared. Harry, nodded immediately and began to clean the rest of the kitchen. He tried not to hear his aunt and uncle doting over his cousin, as if rubbing in that he wouldn’t get anything, especially today.

He finally finished cleaning and grabbed the garbage. His uncle gave him a look down his nose as he scurried away. When he made it to the curb, he heard a rustling sound and a meow. Glancing around, he moved toward the sound and moved away the branches in the bushes. A cat with black markings around its eyes looked at him and meowed again.

“Kitty, you need to leave! If Dudley finds you, Kitty will be really hurt,” he said fearfully, looking around as if his cousin would suddenly appear. The cat didn’t move, but sat there staring at him. After a moment, the cat stood and a small package came into view, a small card on top. He looked at it after glancing at the cat and saw his name written in beautiful handwriting.

“For me?” he blinked, uncertain. The cat sat off to the side and meowed. Hesitantly, he picked it up. The paper was soft, crinkling slightly as he moved it. Whatever was inside, it was smooth, flexible.

“Okay,” he whispered, “Thank you, Kitty,” he smiled at the cat, holding the parcel to his chest. “But Kitty needs to leave now,” he tried to sound firm, but it didn’t seem very scary to him. However, the cat stood and trotted a bit away, before turning back and meowing before disappearing.

Knowing he had been outside for too long, Harry stood and quickly ran into the house straight to the cupboard. Fearing what his relatives would do, he hid the present in his pillowcase, before closing the door. Making sure he wasn’t caught, he went through the rest of the day as quickly as possible, drawing as little attention as he could. Inside however, he was so happy! He finally got a present and on his birthday, too! He would open it tonight when he went to bed. For a moment, he couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it would be a better year.

* * *

His aunt had locked him in the cupboard some time ago. By now they had to be asleep, at least he hoped so. He couldn’t wait to open the present. Carefully, he reached for the dangling chord above his head to turn on the little light. He sat on his bed, his blanket tucked in around him, cross-legged and removed the package from his pillowcase. The wrapper was shiny, a mix of colors that changed as he shifted the package. Twine was tied around the parcel and he undid it, setting the string aside. Opening the paper, he saw cloth. It was smooth and cool to the touch, but also soft and it shimmered when he moved it like the paper did. The cloth was long, like a big blanket and Harry couldn’t help the startled gasp that left him. It would be so much better than his tiny ragged one. He wrapped it around himself and cuddled into it, snuggling into the mattress with both blankets, warmer and cozier than he ever remembered.

“ _ Harry _ ,” he heard a voice and sat up, clutching the blanket to him. “ _ Harry, I won’t hurt you, I promise. _ ”

“Who-who are you?” he asked, fear coating his voice.

“ _ I am someone here to help you, _ ” the voice soothed. “ _ You may call me Ilun. _ ”

“Ee-loon?” Harry tried. The voice chuckled and Harry thought it was very pretty.

“ _ Ii-loon,”  _ the gentle voice corrected. 

“Ii-loon,” Harry whispered the name, as if it were a secret. He didn’t want to risk being overheard by his relatives. Half terrified that they would somehow take the voice away. “Where are you? I can’t see you.”

“ _ I am here. I just go unseen by most. I can help you better this way.”  _

“Are you going to stay?” Harry whispered, worried his knew friend would disappear.

_ “I will always be by your side.”  _ For one instant it felt like there was weight to the blanket, as if someone was sitting next to him. “ _ Now, sleep, Harry. I shall watch over you,” _ the voice soothed.

“Okay,” Harry replied sleepily. Just as he fell asleep, he heard a whispered,  _ ‘Happy birthday, Harry,’ _ and a small smile curved on his lips as he drifted off.


	2. There’s No Such Thing as Magic

It was sweltering. The sticky sort of weather one had no hope of ever coming out of without being drenched in a liter of sweat. Sweat that stung to the welts Harry had been to slow to avoid. He couldn’t even try to heal them now. Uncle Veron would know, would attribute it to his strangeness.

Strangeness that Harry was beginning to understand.

“ _He’ll die one day.”_ Ilun’s voice sounded cold, like it did whenever he spoke of his relatives. Most of that strangeness stemmed from Ilun. Most people didn’t have a voice whispering in their ear that no one could see. Harry wasn’t even entirely sure if Ilun was real at first. Now he thought the other might be ghost. A ghost of someone who was strange like him. 

Harry glanced at his reflection, almost hoping to catch a glimpse of Ilun. He never did. It was merely a boy not quite eleven staring back at him. A pale face void of any markings. No, his uncle and cousin were far too careful for that. But verdant emerald eyes practically glowed for a moment.

“Stop standing there, stupid.” Dudley shoved Harry into the puddle, as he raced past him to the zoo’s entrance. Glancing at his now wet shoes and socks, Harry looked around for a place he could sit. The water soaked up into the soles squelched beneath his feet and he grimaced. His aunt and uncle were distracted with his cousin, which suited him fine and he wandered his way over to a place to sit, trying to get the water out of his shoes. Movement caught his eye and he looked up, turning his head slightly to his right.

He froze. There was a skeletal looking horse with what Harry could only describe as bat wings pawing at the ground next to him underneath a tree, a three-eyed crow watching from a branch. Swirling his head, he looked around trying to see if anyone else noticed the skeletal creature. Everyone around him passed by without a glance, seeming to enjoy the zoo, as if there wasn’t a giant death-horse only feet away from them.

_“Harry_ ,” Ilun spoke up, “ _calm yourself. They are called thestrals and I assure you, they are very gentle creatures._ ” Harry blinked.

_“Gentle?”_ he spoke, having finally learned to talk to Ilun mentally instead of out loud. 

“ _Yes.”_

_“Can the others see it?”_ Harry asked, intrigued by the being.

“ _No. Only those who have seen death can_ ,” Ilun said not unkindly.

“ _But… I don’t remember seeing anyone die.”_

“ _You were very young, Harry,”_ Ilun reminded gently.

“ _My parents.”_ Harry couldn’t remember them. Sometimes he would pretend that he recalled a woman with a warm smile, bright red hair, but that was based off the few pictures Harry had managed to find of his mother. That discovery had cost him. Afterwards they told him she had died in a car accident with the drunk fool who was his father.

“ _A car accident, right?”_

_“Not everything is what it seems,”_ Ilun had said it then and he repeated it now. Not revealing what happened, but implying something more. Like he did when Harry asked about the strangeness, about his oddness. Ilun was always ambiguous. Some things were better to find out on your own. Just as he considered it, the therstal took a step forward. It’s head nudged Harry. Harry took a step back.

“ _Don’t be afraid. She’s just saying hello. Scratch behind her ear.”_ Ilun’s voice was gentle as if Harry were a frightened horse and not the skeletal one before him. 

Gingerly, Harry reached out a hand to the spot. Surprised by the smooth, leathery feeling of the skeletal head. He traced a hand over one of the small boney horns, feeling the roughness of the texture. The horse kept perfectly still the entire time. Then almost half lowered his body, as if inviting him to get on.

Harry stepped back. He _couldn’t._ Glancing behind him, he checked to see if his relatives caught his behavior. With his hand still partially outstretched, he met the menacing eyes of his cousin, who began to point at him. He felt the blood drain from his face. _He hadn’t done anything!_

His breathing quickened and he started to shake as Dudley marched over to him, his aunt and uncle not far behind.

“What are you doing over here, boy?” he uncle growled. “You’re up to no good again, aren’t you? This is how you pay us back for all the kindness we’ve shown you?” His uncle reached for him and grabbed the extra fabric of his shirt. “I’m warning you. Any funny business and-”

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a scream. Both turned to see his Aunt Petunia fretting over a very stunned Dudley lying on his back. A quick look to the side revealed the thestral flaring his wings and snorting, hooves pounding the ground.

“You!” his uncle turned back to him. “That’s it! You’re going straight into the cupboard, no food for you tonight!” the man growled. Harry shrank back as far as he could and trembled.

The next thing he knew he was being dragged back to the car, his aunt making fussing sounds as she walked with Dudley. He was practically thrown into the back of the car, the door slammed shut, while Dudley was gently maneuvered into the car.

The car ride back was strained and Harry was afraid of what would happen once they were back inside the house. They were always good to limit what they did to him outside, but once the front door closed, there was nothing to stop them.

_“Breathe, Harry. I promise they will do nothing more than put you in the cupboard. I can get you out later when they go upstairs for food. Shh. You’ll be okay_ ,” Ilun’s voice helped calm his trembling body.

When they got to the house, he was practically dragged from the car and shoved into the closet. He had learned long ago not to struggle. The more he resisted the more it hurt.

“Now you’ll think about what you’ve done!” his uncle called.

“But it wasn’t my fault!” he cried, despite knowing it would only anger his uncle. “It was-” he didn’t know what to say. “It was like magic!”

His uncle paused, then, before the door slammed shut, he muttered, “There is no such thing as magic!”

* * *

The lock slid back and Harry pushed the door open slightly, checking to make sure there was in fact no one awake. He had accepted long ago that Ilun was different. Early on he had tried to get answers, but the other gently sidestepped his queries telling him that he would know in time. It became such a part of their relationship that he simply trusted the other, having already helped Harry beyond what anyone else had in his life.

Silently, he walked through the quiet house toward the kitchen. This wasn’t his first time scrounging up food after dark. He had quickly learned to take from the back of the cabinets, the boxes of food rarely touched by his relatives. The first time he had done this, he had grabbed what he could easily reach and his aunt had noticed. She had screeched at him and his uncle had given him bruises. It was just another mark telling them that he was a “freak.”

Grabbing a chair, he quietly placed it below the cupboard containing all the non-perishables. Carefully moving boxes out of his way, he grabbed one of the small boxes containing crackers from the back and removed a full sleeve, placing the box back where he found it. 

He put the chair back and sat at the table, slowing eating his way through the sleeve of crackers. His legs swung slightly, legs not quite touching the floor. When he was done, he tiptoed back into the kitchen and threw away the wrapper, then quietly making his way back to his relegated spot in the house. As the door shut, a soft click signaled the locking of the door and he curled up on the mattress. He grabbed the cloak neatly folded on the bed and slipped under the sheet, hiding the unusual properties of the material.

_“Ilun?”_ he called out mentally.

_“Yes, little Bizitza?”_

_“What happened to my parents? You said not everything was as it seems.”_ Harry asked quietly.

“ _Are you asking how they died? Or before that? I only know their deaths.”_

_“H-how did they die? Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said they died in a car crash… but… what you said earlier made me think… is that not true?”_

“ _It’s not.”_ Ilun stated simply. “ _They died protecting you.”_

_“Protecting_ _me? From what?”_

“ _From one who fears you.”_

Harry blinked in confusion. _“Me? Who would fear me?”_

“ _He fears what you might become.”_

_“I don’t understand,”_ Harry shook his head.

“ _Do not worry. You will one day.”_ Harry was quiet for a time, thinking everything through.

_“Ilun?”_

“ _Yes?”_ Ilun’s voice held eternal patience and comfort.

_“Why do you know this? Were you there?_ ”

“ _I was.”_ Always the simple straight forward truth. 

_“How? Uncle Vernon says there’s no such thing as magic but… everything you’ve done to help me and what’s happened to me…”_ Harry trailed off, uncertain as to how to proceed.

“ _Is magic.”_ Ilun finished Harry’s sentence. “ _You wanted to know how I was there?”_

_“Yes_ ,” Harry asked resolutely. Ilun was silent for a long minute, so long that Harry didn’t think he would respond at all. Till he did.

“ _By the nature of my being. There are certain types of magic. Some are older than most.”_

_“What do you mean? What are you?”_

“ _I was called forth.”_ Ilun hesitated, almost as if he were afraid of saying what he was. “ _I was promised something long ago. And I wanted to protect that promise.”_

_“What do you mean? What promise and how were you called? I don’t remember…”_ Harry spoke, trying desperately to remember that long ago night.

“ _Your parents called to me, by their last breath.”_ Ilun answered. But it wasn’t an answer at all. It didn’t make any sense. None of it did. “ _I am called by all in their last breath.”_

“ _You’re… death_?” Harry murmured, shocked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Ilun stated, voice carefully neutral. Harry didn’t know what to say, his body beginning to tremble. “ _I have no intention to hurt you. For all the years you have known me, have I ever harmed you?_ ”

“ _No_ ,” he mumbled. “ _But… if you’re death… doesn’t that mean you want me dead?_ ”

“ _No, Harry. Quite the opposite. I… I promised to protect you and I shall continue to do so,_ ” Ilun assured and Harry felt a pressure around him, as if the other were hugging him. He was still unsure what to do with this new information, but Ilun had always helped him, cared for him and he was more scared of losing that than learning that Ilun was actually Death.

Slowly he nodded and a warmth spread around him. _“Thank you, Harry_ ,” Ilun spoke, voice full of emotion and Harry couldn’t help but smile.

_I wonder what this means, me speaking to Death,_ Harry mused. He nodded once more before getting comfortable and letting himself drift to sleep, the warm contented feeling following him into his dreams. 

* * *

The banging above his head woke him up like it did most mornings, dust that hadn’t already been dislodged faintly coating him. He blinked a few times and heard the bold sliding away, a hollered “get up” preceding a bang on the door. Straightening up, he moved to open the door, careful to keep his fingers away from the edges. On more than one occasion he fell victim to his cousin slamming the door, his fingers and head taking the brunt of the abuse.

As he shut the door behind him, he walked into the kitchen only for his uncle to make him pause. “Boy! Go get the mail,” the man ordered brusquely, jowls moving as he read the paper and had his coffee.

Nodding, for being out of range of his relatives was always preferable, he did as he was told. The mail slot left the letters and other parcels just inside the entry. He bent down and picked them up, slowly looking through them, taking his time before re-entering the kitchen. The last letter was made of thick off-white stock, beautiful green script adorning the front. Absently, he passed the rest of the mail to his uncle, placing them on the small table by his elbow, while he looked at the letter. He had never received mail before. Before he could open it, however, his cousin came up behind him and snatched it from his hand.

“Give that back! It’s mine!” Harry tried to intimidate.

“Who would write to you?” he uncle scoffed, before turning it over, his face paling. His aunt moved over to her husband and a shocked and almost fearful look crossed her features. Dudley simply looked gleeful in removing his first piece of mail from his hands, but otherwise didn’t seem to care.

His uncle stood abruptly, his sheer size causing the chair to screech back and jostle the table. Harry watched with dread as the first real communication with the outside met flame. The orange and red tongues licked at the envelope, his uncle standing beside the mantle, a gargoyle-sentinel bent on keeping him away. He watched helplessly as the letter became nothing but ash and his eyes finally flickered over to the man. There was rage and anger in his soul, but fear kept him at a distance. Whatever he tried to do, he would receive ten times worse.

For one moment, the fire flared up, almost reaching out towards his uncle and Harry almost wished for the flame to consume him, but a part of him feared that feeling. It was cold, ruthless, and unnatural to him, and so he shrank back. For once, more afraid of himself than his relatives.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy, breakfast isn’t made.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry moved into the kitchen again and took over what his aunt had left undone. He scurried around making breakfast for them, eyes darting back to the fireplace every so often, a part of him longing to know what had laid inside.

The rest of the day proceeded in an odd sort of tension. Harry could feel his aunt’s and uncle’s careful gaze throughout the day whereas before they would generally ignore him. His hands shook as he went about his chores. Terrified of making a mistake. Terrified of what they might do in their dispise of anything aberrant. Every now and then he would look back to the fireplace, but not even the burnt remains of the letter were seen. Only ash. Harry didn’t even dare try to sneak into his cupboard to speak with Ilun about it.

It wasn’t till that night that he had a chance.

“ _What was in that letter?”_ Harry asked, but didn’t expect an answer. 

“ _Harry stay here.”_ Ilun sounded distracted, and Harry could almost hear the shuffle of footsteps outside his cupboard. But dismissed it. Probably Dudley after a midnight snack.

“ _I can’t exactly go anywhere,”_ he responded somewhat tersely, but curled up. 

“ _Put the cloak on and stay silent.”_ Ilun still sounded tense.

“ _Why?”_ But Harry moved the cloak over his head, wrapping it around himself completely.

“ _I can not say. But know this, I am beside you.”_

_“What-”_ he stopped when he heard voices and he froze, barely breathing from his place under the cloak.

“Where’s the _boy?_ ” a voice hissed, footsteps creaked against the stairs.

“Not up there.”

“He _is_ here right, Barty?” The door to his cupboard swung open and a face peered down at him. His face was hidden beneath a pale mask. Harry held his breath, terrified to breathe and be seen. He knew the cloak hid him, but he never actually had someone this close to him.

“We followed the letters and they are never wrong.” The second voice from the stairs said. The man in front of him turned away, slamming the cupboard closed once more. Harry shook. Maybe they’ll just go away. Maybe if he wished hard enough. If there was such a thing as magic, maybe it could save him now, save his home.

“Let’s just burn it,” a third said. A flickering light danced beneath the door of his cupboard. 

“I’m always up to hearing some muggles scream.” The first let out a low laugh. The light grew, redder than before. “Wish I could see their faces when they wake up from their cozy little beds to see the world burning down around them.”

Harry knew the cupboard was locked. They were going to burn the house down. And he couldn’t escape. His breath hitched. 

“ _I am here.”_ Ilun’s voice was soothing. Ilun _was_ Death. What did that mean? 

“ _Am I going to die?”_ Why else would Death be beside him for so long? Had he been marked for death since he was a baby? Only for him to come and take him away? Maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad if he got to stay with Ilun.

“ _No. You have my protection, little Bizitza.”_

Harry could almost imagine Ilun giving him a hug. His shaking stopped but he still felt tense. The red light beneath the door grew, greater and greater. The heat grew with it and he no longer heard those awful voices.

Crackling and pops grew, the scent of ash and smoke permeated the air.

It was an odd sort of melody.

Then the screaming started.

Harry recognized it as his aunt’s. There were no words to it, just pure shrieking. Veron’s then joined hers. A loud horrible rumble that he never heard before. But above their tones, was Dudley’s pure high screeching. Harry shook. Leaping to his feet, no matter how much he hated them. He couldn’t let them die. They were family.

The door to the cupboard was jammed. Locked.

Harry was as trapped as they were.

Helpless, he couldn’t do anything. The screaming continued. Louder and louder. Echoing in his ears, pounding with his own heart. Harry never screamed. Every breath felt heavier and heavier and the heat was sweltering. Hotter than any summer day, the knob on the door looked odd. His breathing was labored, it was hard to breathe. The world tilted sideways and everything became fuzzy.

He sat up, as if in a dream, hands no longer trembling, grabbing the cloak and the picture of his mother as a girl. Calmly, he raised his hand and the door blasted away, splinters flying everywhere around him, but never hitting him. He stepped out as if there were no flames engulfing the world around him and he walked steadily to the front door, the fire parting around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a body burning on the stairs. A part of his mind distantly categorized it as belonging once to his aunt. Without his consent, his body continued to move and the front door opened for him, leading out to fresh air. It wasn’t until he was down the path looking back on the scene that he felt himself come back, lungs breathing in deep.

His knees collapsed beneath him and he coughed slightly, eyes wide in terror as the house he had grown up in, had been abused in, burned down, taking all those terrors with it. Glancing around, he realized that he couldn’t be here. Being the only survivor would draw attention to himself and he had no idea what he would say. After all, there was no such thing as magic.

  



	3. The Lost Wizard

Harry walked.

There was no other word for it. He walked past Privet Drive, past Little Whinging. He kept walking. In the distance he could hear the sirens.

“ _Where do I go?”_ He asked Ilun a little lost as he tucked the cloak around him a little more tightly. 

“ _I do not know. There are those loyal to me. Perhaps they can help?”_ Ilun sounded oddly exhausted. Harry had never heard the other sounding even the slightest bit tired before. “ _Look for a therstal or a three eyed raven. They can guide you.”_

Harry nodded to himself, feeling quite tired, too. Feeling like he was too exposed, he turned toward the woods, hoping it would give him some level of protection from prying eyes. Barefoot and in pyjamas, Harry wasn’t doing well. The dark made it hard for him to see, but he finally stumbled into a thicket of trees. With the cloak snug around him, he curled up under one of the trees and exhaustion finally took over.

When he woke, it was to the morning noises of the local wildlife. It had startled him awake and he curled up tighter where he laid on the ground. 

Harry stared out at the sky, the early morning light shining down at him. 

“ _What do I do now, Ilun?”_

“ _Look for the ravens,_ ” he spoke quietly, more subdued even for him. Harry looked around, but didn’t see any and was too afraid of venturing further into the woods, worried he would lose his way. Instead, he decided to rest, to try and understand what had just happened. Those men had come looking for him, he thought, and just burned down his home, killing his family, since they couldn’t find him. Who were they? Why did they want to find him? He was no one. Why would anyone care about him?

“ _Why were they looking for me?”_ Harry didn’t know that someone would even care enough about him to try to murder him. 

_“Many of your questions stem from what happened when you were but a babe,”_ Ilun responded not unkindly.

“ _Why would they even care? What happened then?”_ Harry pulled the cloak closer around himself, cold despite the summer morning. 

Ilun didn’t respond for a long time and Harry wondered if he had finally said something that pushed his only friend away, then he heard a sigh and a warmth spread through him, as if someone had wrapped their arms around his body. “ _When you were only about a year, a man came to kill you. In the process he murdered both of your parents, but in her sacrifice, your mother protected you and I was allowed to intervene. The men who came for you tonight work for the man who came for you. Although his body was destroyed that night, his soul still lives.”_

_So a dead man is after me and I have Death to protect me._ Harry thought to himself, trying to wrap the circumstance in his head. A part of himself was carefully ignoring the realization that his relatives were dead. 

His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten much yesterday and now the constant gnaw of hunger was making itself known. One of the ravens fluttered down, mouth full of berries and dropped them in front of him. 

The taste of berry sweetness spread through his mouth. His stomach turned a moment later. Harry ignored it, as he shoved more into his mouth. 

The raven guided him to a stream and he drank it. His mind felt numb. He had no more questions for Ilun, nothing that he could think of. Instead he just watched the ravens on the trees. They squawked and cawed between themselves. Occasionally, he would eat a berry. Red juice staining his fingers and his lips. 

The day progressed. An odd sort of numbness covered Harry like the cloak he wore, wrapping him in an additional invisible layer of protection. It wasn’t like he ever really hated the Dursleys. A part of him, that grew smaller each year, yearn for them to care about him, even a little bit. He wondered what it would like to be hugged. Once he dared to ask Dudley, who happily treated him to a twisted version of it. At least when they hit him they acknowledged that he was _there._ That Harry was real. 

Now?

Surrounded by the woods and only Ilun’s company, he wasn’t nearly as sure. He wondered when the bruises fade and the bones fully mend, if he would have anything left of the Dursleys.

Of the last of his family.

He somehow lost the photograph of his mother that he had found along the way.

Harry slept. Then he rose and ate the next morning, his stomach twisting with hunger pains. The berries not quite enough to be sustainable. It was only by Ilun’s advice was he able to forage some roots to go with it, but he couldn’t bring himself to hunt for something more. To hurt another animal. All he could see in his hands when he caught the rabbit was his uncles holding Harry’s neck. 

Harry wasn’t sure when he fell asleep again, but the morning light shined down at him again. Cawing above his head alerted him to the ravens above him and he groggily stood up when one flew down and nudged his hand. The bird took into the air and circled above him before cawing and then heading in a direction, landing on a branch and calling out to him again. After a moment, Harry followed and the raven took off again, leading him somewhere, Harry hoped. The cloak was draped around him like a blanket, only his head showing, but he didn’t really care and Ilun said nothing as he followed the black bird, who patiently guided him.

Eventually Harry spotted a road not too far off and Ilun’s voice resounded in his head, _“Cover yourself with the cloak_.” Doing as he was told, Harry continued to follow after the raven, who didn’t seem at all deterred even when he could no longer see the boy.

Harry continued to stumble along until the raven landed on a branch and didn’t move. He looked around, but didn’t see anything to indicate why they had stopped. 

A grey tabby hopped down from a branch, its paws silently padded through the forest floor. The raven cawed and looked down at the cat, but otherwise did nothing.

“ _What? I don’t understand_ ,” Harry thought, hoping that he might get some advice. However, the more he looked at the cat, the more it felt familiar. An old memory resurfaced, the first time he had ever gotten a gift. He stared at the cat wide-eyed.

“ _Yes_ ,” Ilan spoke as a whisper, “ _the cat will help you. Remove and hide the cloak, do not let her see you until it is hidden and then go to her. She will keep you safe._ ” Ilan fell silent once again and Harry decided that he couldn’t stay in the woods any more and swiftly hid behind a large tree. He quickly pulled the cloak from around his shoulders and folded it up. There was no way to really hide the cloak, so he tied to ends together to make it into an easy to carry bundle and held onto it. His body was shaking, whether it was nervousness or something else, Harry wasn’t sure.

As he stepped out, he felt the cat’s eyes on him and he held his little bundle tighter to his chest. It had been his first gift and he hoped that the little kitty would let him keep it, since he was certain now she had given it to him. The cat sat on the forest floor, tail lazily flickering back and forth, as he approached.

“Kitty?” he asked quietly, extending his hand. He hoped the feline remembered him and was nice. He didn’t want to stay out here another night. The cat watched him for a moment before turning around and then meowing back at him. Not hearing anything else from Ilun, Harry followed the grey tabby.

They didn’t walk very far before a small tent came into view and Harry was wary, but he felt a warm sort of nudge to his conscious from Ilun and continued to follow the cat. What he thought to be a small tent turned out to be almost the size of a small house on the inside. Harry let his eyes wander turning to see everything inside the tent. It even had a bathroom and a small kitchen with food.

“So big,” he spoke aloud, taking a half step backwards in surprise. It didn’t make sense. Tents shouldn’t be bigger on the inside.

_“It’s a spell, Bizitza. Do not be alarmed_ ,” Ilun spoke quietly. He still sounded tired, but Harry was glad that he was still with him.

Then the cat moved to the center of the room. Eyes watching him for a moment, patient and kind. Almost as if to say do not be afraid. Then the shape morphed. The back arched higher and higher, arms elongating. Overall, it was both terrifying and amazing to watch. A woman stood before him.

Harry blinked.

The woman was still there, not making in movement, but offered him a small smile. Harry stared. The cat had _transformed_ into a woman. The one he had met so long ago. 

“Kitty?”

She nodded, smile going crooked for half a second. 

“Would you like some tea, Mr. Potter?” Her voice was warm, a kind smile on a stern face, with her greying brown hair tied in a tight bun, and glasses framing her face. She looked like the type of person a kid dreams of having as a teacher. And she was Kitty. But still, nothing ever good came from an adult, or even other kids for that matter. 

Harry didn’t say anything, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He almost took a step back, but then realized he didn’t know where else to go and Ilun had told him to trust her.

“Who are you?” he asked tentatively, afraid that the kindness would turn to malice.

“Minerva Mcgonagall.” She pushed her glasses up, the same spectacular shape that had frame the cat’s face. “If you calling me Kitty makes you feel more comfortable as long as it’s just between the two of us.” 

“I’ve seen you before.” Harry couldn’t quite remember how old he was, but he couldn’t help but wonder. “We’ve met before, right?”

“Yes.” Something flashed in her eyes, but he couldn’t placed it. “I should have done more then.” 

Harry nodded. “What’s going to happen to me now? I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You can stay with me. We can even stay here for a little bit if you wish. There’s a bath and plenty of food in this tent. Or we could go to my residence. But you will be safe with me. At least, as safe as I can make you.”

“Why?” Harry looked around at the tent once again. Then he couldn’t help his curiosity. “You can do-” He wanted to say magic but stopped, flinching. He felt like even thinking the word would get him whipped. Uncle Veron’s looming form crept closer in his imagination, eyes lit with fury. 

“Magic.” With the barest flick of her hand, a light appeared in her palm. “Why yes Mr. Potter, I can.” She bent forward a little. “Have you ever done anything like this? Something you couldn’t explain.”

“It wasn’t me.” The words were out more as a defense mechanism then anything else. He _had_. Illun himself was clearly magical, had taught him such. He was terrified of anyone ever finding out. Even Kitty. She was magic, was everything his relatives ever feared. The voices and the fire from that night. Were those who burned the house also magic users? 

“Of course it wasn’t, Mr. Potter. No one blames you,” McGonnagall spoke.

_“Listen to her, Harry, you are not at fault,”_ Ilun whispered.

“But I didn’t save them.” He just stood there and listened to them burn. In the back of his mind he could still hear them screaming. “If I have such a thing, then why couldn’t I save them?”

“Mr. Potter,” her kind voice caught his attention, “you got yourself out of that house. That alone is a miracle. Do not carry the weight of the dead.”

“ _My little Bizitza,”_ Ilun soothed, “ _let me take the worry of the dead.”_

“Okay,” he spoke and thought, answering both.

“Now, why don’t you go wash up and I shall have something here for you to eat?” She gestured towards one corner of the tent. Harry could even hear water being to run as if the bath had turned on by itself. He moved towards the direction she had gestured, going through a door. The tent had a door, had _rooms_. It took him longer than it should to wrap his head around it, but at the same time, it felt like the magic practically hummed in welcome. This tent felt warm. Warmer then even the hottest summer night at the Dursleys. Was it the magic?

The bath tub _had_ filled itself. There was even a rubber duck floating in the water, and a bottle of bubble bath to the side. Harry couldn’t remember ever having a bath. Generally his aunt just pulled his elbow and tossed him into the bathroom, a crisp ‘you better be clean in five minutes…’ an or else hung in her words. Harry had only once found out what that was. He never wanted to again. Broken bones were a nuisance. 

He placed a finger in the water. It was warm. Hot water had only been a dream.

“ _Do you think it’s safe?”_ Harry addressed Illun. 

“ _Yes, Bizitza, it is safe,_ ” Ilun’s voice gently soothed. _“Remember, I will always be here._ ”

Comfort washed over him. Harry nodded, for the first time loosening his grip on the cloak. Gently setting it down next to a large fluffy towel. A pair of pajamas appeared a second later, floating through the door. They were red and gold. He stared at them. Were they for him? He never wore something so nice in his life. 

_“Yes,”_ Ilun chuckled, “ _they are for you, Harry.”_

_“Ilun!”_ Harry glanced around and then at the cloak. _“How? I’m not holding the cloak!”_

_“I will not leave you, my Harry. I am able to talk with you as long as the cloak is near.”_

With that reassurance and surprise, Harry took his bath. The water felt amazing on his skin and he let himself sink into the water, never having felt so relaxed. Warmth from the water, but also from Ilun, spread over him and he slowly cleaned himself off. For a time, he simply dozed, allowing himself to relax into the water. He didn’t fear drowning, he knew Ilun was there, keeping him safe.

_“Harry,”_ Ilun’s voice gently roused him from his doze, “ _you should get dressed. The water is beginning to cool.”_ Harry blinked and looked around. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and stood, the water sliding off his skin back into the tub. He stepped out and grabbed a towel, pulling the plug on the tub and absently watching as the water swirled down the drain.

When he was finally dry, he carefully put on the clothes that had been placed on the counter. A part of him was afraid, wary that all of this would change at the drop of a hat and he was going to go back to the abusive life he had known all his life. That all of this was just an odd dream. Horrible and wonderful at the same time. 

There was food on the table as Harry crept through the door, gently creaking it opened, worried what would be waiting on the other side. Kitty, no Ms. McGongall was merely pouring a cup of tea. Well, it was more like the tea pot was pouring itself and she was supervising. She didn’t turn to look at him, didn’t move from her task. She merely moved to sit down once she was done, across from her was an empty seat and a plate filled with food.

“Have a seat Mr. Potter. Feel free to eat what you want.” Her voice was kind. 

Harry had never sat at the table with another person before.

He froze. Once he had dared to ask, too young and naive to know the difference. One of those memories _before_ Ilun. The consequences were burned into his memory, literally. He could only really remember the burning. That horrible scent of flesh. He’ll never forget it.

_“It is okay, Bizitza,_ ” Ilun’s voice spoke steadily, _“she will not hurt you.”_

Tentatively, Harry took a seat, but didn’t reach out for the plate. Instead he watched the woman carefully. She offered him a small smiled, and took a bite out of a meat pie. A faint gnawing pain in his stomach remind him that he was hungry. Harry cut the thinnest of slices and took a hesitant bite.

Flavor exploded on his tongue.

The crust was light and buttery. The meat was so savory, Harry couldn’t even place all the spices. It was good, better even than anything he had ever had before. Glancing down at the plate, he paused. A part of was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It always did.

A brief frown flitted across McGonagall's face. “Eat as much as you want.”

Harry couldn’t believe how good it all tasted. He began to dig in enthusiastically, but then slowed down slightly when he realized that no one was going to take away the food. To be able to sit and eat a meal was new and strange, but he loved the feeling. As he finished, he started to get sleepy, never having had so much food at once. He stumbled over to the bed Ms. McGonagall had ushered him to and the beautiful peace of oblivion took over, the warm comfort of Ilun around him.

* * *

Ilun, no Death, watched unseen as the child slumbered. For all his long years, eons stretched upon eons, he still had trouble believing it. A greater part was angered. They had _dared_ to harm what was his. He didn’t much care about the deaths of Harry’s relatives, had merely sent them off with a wave of his hand and the knowledge of where those spirits would go. No, they had tried to burn what was _his_ , even if the bond wouldn’t be fully established until much later.

“I suspected you were still watching him, spirit.” McGongall whispered, as she picked up the shimmering cloak that was pooled on the floor besides the sleeping child. Ilun remembered nudging her as she stood before the grave of Harry’s parents. He had been surprised when she had seemed aware of him. Could she sense him even now?

_“You are aware of me?”_ he questioned the mortal, curious.

The woman jumped backwards, cloak still in one hand as she pulled out her wand. “You’ve never spoken before.“

_“I never had need,”_ he laughed.

“Very well, spirit.” Then she studied the air around the room, unable to see him, but trying to place him. “At first I thought you were his father, but that isn’t correct, is it?”

_“No, but I plan to protect him,_ ” he decided to give the witch some information. From her actions, he knew she had not acquiesced to Harry’s placement with his relatives. A grim smile broke across his face unseen as he thought of what agony they were now going through.

“I thought Albus knew what he was doing, despite how terrible they were. I knew they wouldn’t love him, but I didn’t think they would hurt him.” With a wave of her wand, a piece of wood transformed into a chair. Her voice quiet as she watched the child. “But this. He wasn’t the slightest bit safe. Not from his family and not from his enemies.” 

_“No,_ ” he agreed. All these years he had felt helpless in some ways only able to protect him from the most grievous of harm, but not all the small day to day abuse he had received.

“He can rest safely here.” The woman stood, dusting off her robes. She moved forward to place the cloak next to the child.

“ _I would not have had him follow you otherwise, Minerva_.” 

She gave a small smile, as she let go of the cloak. “I’m concerned that Albus doesn’t have the child in mind when he makes his plans. He sometimes loses sight of the people. This should never have happened.”

Pulling out a letter, one addressed for Harry Potter the cupboard under the stairs, but the address shifted changing to the tent in the forest of Trent. Minerva placed it down on the end table by the bed.

“I have a few letters to send, but I’ll let Albus know that I’m still looking, and had no luck here. It’ll do him some good to fret about consequences.” She nodded towards the air as she took her leave. 

Death nodded, but remained silent. He would need to tread carefully around the old wizard. It was unfortunate, but he was sure the fool had his wand. At the very least, Dumbledore would be able to sense him around Harry if he came too close. It was lucky happenstance that Minerva had been able to sense him, likely for her help in giving Harry the cloak. If she was to become an ally to Harry, he would take it. He had other uses for her. She could interact with the living, something he could not quite yet achieve.

Looking away, he let his gaze travel back to Harry, sleeping heavily in the bed. The black hair was mussed, sticking every which way and making an endearing sight. He leaned down and placed his hand on the ebony curls, though Harry would never feel it. To be so close, yet so far was maddening, but he was patient. He would get what he came for in time, after all, he had waited eons for Harry to be born, a few years was nothing.

* * *

Light trickled in and Harry turned in the bed, soft mattress cushioning his body. He didn’t recall his bed ever feeling this nice, nor being woken by sunlight. It was always to the harsh sounds above his head... Eyes flicked open and he looked around, almost startled. He was in an actual bed, blankets covering him to keep him warm with the smell of cooking wafting in around him. The light was warm, soft yellows and oranges, so unlike the harsh light and cold greys he was used to seeing.

Grabbing his glasses, Harry took in his surroundings. Was this what it was supposed to be like? Warmth and comfort.

_“Good morning, Bizitza,_ ” Ilun’s voice was soft and gentle.

_“Morning, Ilun_ ,” he returned happily. He pushed over the blankets, swung his feet over the edge of the bed, and got out of bed, taking the cloak with him. Following the smells of food, he wandered his way over to the small little kitchen area in the tent, still awed by the magic surrounding him. A small part of him still shied away from why this was all happening, the events leading up to this moment. It was too much to dwell on, too many implications that he didn’t know how to handle.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall spoke, setting down a tea cup.

Harry stopped his wandering gaze and focused on the person in front of him, the witch in front of him. “Good moring, Ms. McGonagall,” he replied in a small voice.

She smiled at him, “Are you hungry? There’s plenty here for you to eat.” She gestured over to a small table laden with food and Harry felt his eyes widen. Was that all for him? He had never been allowed such a meal!

Hesitantly, he sat in a chair opposite the witch and grabbed a few pastries from the table to put on his plate. He tried his best to eat properly and to stay quiet, not sure if this were some sort of test, but Ilun said nothing and he felt his warm presence beside him. The first bite was wonderful, the muffin, pumpkin he thought, moist, but fluffy. He finished it and then moved on to a flaky crescent roll, placing butter on it and watching in satisfaction as it melted into the bread.

As his company drank her tea, he continued to grab food from the table, a mixture of bread and pastries, fruits, and cooked eggs and ham. He couldn’t believe that he was able to eat so much. Eventually he slowed down until he felt he couldn’t even look at the food anymore and silently waited for what was to come next.

“There was a letter beside your bed. I was wondering if you had a chance to open it. Don’t worry if you haven’t yet, but there are a few things that I feel require explanation.” She sipped her tea, but her eyes watched him keenly. 

_“Go get the letter, Harry,”_ Ilun spoke quietly.

Nodding to both, he stood up from the chair and over to where he had found his glasses. An off-white letter sat primly on the table, green lettering fancifully written across the front. He took it, hands slightly shaking, and turned it around. Where the top of the envelope folded down, a dark red wax seal sat emboldened. He couldn’t recall ever receiving a letter before and his curiosity won as he broke the seal. Inside was a simple letter.

> _Dear Mr. Potter,_
> 
> _We are pleased to inform you that you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy._
> 
> _Please find the enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment._
> 
> _Term begins on the 1st of September. We await your owl by no later than the 31st of July._
> 
> _Yours sincerely,_
> 
> _Minerva McGonagall_
> 
> _Deputy Headmistress_

Harry considered the letter and the list of required items to attend school on the second page. Though he paused at the signature at the end.

“That’s you, isn’t it? You’re the headmistress of Hogwarts?” A school for magic. Harry tried to wrap his head around it. He could accept that there were one or two others like him, but this… There was a school for them?

“I am.” She smiled at him, gentle. “All wizard children go to Hogwarts when they turn 11 in the UK.” 

“How many wizards are there? I never knew…” He wasn’t sure what it was. At first he thought himself strange and Ilun a ghost. Now, was talking to Death something all wizards could do? Harry had the vague feeling that it was odd even for them. 

“Were my parents wizards?” Harry knew next to nothing about them. Anytime he asked, Uncle Veron always railed against him, shouting that they were useless and freaks. He wondered if his back still bore the scars from the whipping.

“They were among the brightest.” A true smile crossed her face then. “I have never encountered a student like your father and his friends. The stunts he would pull and the things he could create. He was one of the best in transfiguration magic.”

“Transfiguration?” Harry had no idea what that is.

“The type of magic where you transfigure,” she held up her tea cup, “a regular item,” tapping her wand on the side of it, the cup shifted into a dozen blue flowers, “into something else. I’ll admit that it is my speciality and the subject I teach.” She handed him the flowers. Harry sniffed them, they even smelt like flowers and not at all like tea. 

“That’s amazing.” Harry stared at them. For a long while he just sat there, holding the flowers. It was so much to take in. “What about my mother?”

“She was gifted at both charms and potions. Her eyes were green as well, but not nearly as bright as yours. Your father couldn’t help teasing her the entire time they were at school. She wasn’t anything like her sister.” Harry flinched at the mention of his aunt.

“I am sorry for what happened to them.” McGonagall soothed, mistaking the reason for his flinch. He simply nodded.

“So… my dad wasn’t a drunk? Did they really die in a car crash?” he asked, eyes wide and fearfully hopeful.

“Heavens no.” McGonagall looked appalled. “He died fighting to save you from-” A pause. “You really don’t know do you?”

“Know what?” Harry didn’t understand. “Please, please tell me.”

“There is a whole society of wizards.” She started off. “But wizards are just as human as muggles, as non magical people. You know there are terrible humans, criminals and murders?” 

He nodded.

“Wizarding kind has the same. One of them,” she steeled herself for a moment, “Voldemort, decided that your family was a threat to him. They had survived against him too many times, resisted. Then they had you and went into hiding. So one day, a traitor told him where they were. They died saving you, but somehow managed to stop this dark wizard.” 

Harry stared at her, taking her words and putting them with what Ilun had told him. This person was still after him, still looking to kill him. It was as if everyone knew the story but him, that he was purposefully kept in the dark.

“What will happen to me now?” Harry finally felt the courage to ask.

“You can stay with me till the start of term if you would like? I have a small residence outside of Hogwarts that would work. I share it with Poppy, who is the Hogwarts mediwitch. You are welcome to stay with us.” 

Harry looked down at the table.

“Take your time to think about it. There is no rush. We are safe enough here for the time being, and it’s been awhile since I’ve gone camping. Unless you have injuries that need seeing to?” He looked up, startled, and felt the blood drain from his face. He didn’t want her to see, didn’t want her to know about all the scars he carried. Over the years, Ilun had taught him some about healing his wounds, the remnants of beatings he received from his relatives, but he just couldn’t tell her what had happened.

“I-I’m fine,” he choked out.

Her eyebrows lifted up. “Nothing is hurting at the moment? There was a fire. I have some burn ointment if you need it?” 

“No!” he stood up abruptly, hands in front of him.

_“Harry,_ ” Ilun’s voice cut through his panic, warmth wrapping around him, _“she means you no harm._ ”

“It’s okay.” McGonagall kept her voice calm. “You don’t have to do anything right now.” Then she glanced down at the letter. “If you would like a familiar, we could perhaps go to Diagon Alley for your birthday and pick up some of the other supplies as well.” 

“Familiar?” Harry lowered his hands, intrigued once again, Ilun’s presence and her soft words keeping him calm.

“Most have an owl or a cat, but familiars aren’t truly restricted to those animals or even a single one. Exceptions can be made.”

“What about a thestral?” Harry asked, remembering the gentle creature from the zoo.

“That…” she paused, studying him. “would be a little challenging to care for, but there is a herd on the grounds. Have you seen a thestral before?”

Harry nodded, “Once at the zoo. She was nice.”

“I suppose that,” she glanced at the cloak on his lap, “the spirit told you about them?”

“You mean Ilun?” Harry cocked his head. “Yeah, he told me.”

_“Be careful, Harry. She is an exception, but you must not say too much about me right now,_ ” Ilun’s voice was kind, but firm.

“Is that his name?” McGonagall’s brow furrowed. “I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere before. Regardless, if you already have a…” another pause, “thestral, I am sure we can arrange something. Do you know where this thestral is?” 

Harry shook his head, “No, my… my uncle took me away,” his voice barely above a whisper.

“I can send someone to go get it if you would like. There shouldn’t be a thestral running around in the muggle world. Where did you see him?”

“At the zoo in Little Whinging,” he recalled.

“I’ll send a message. Though you’ll have to wait till we get to Hogwarts to meet him. Do you have any other questions about Hogwarts or the wizarding world?” Harry nodded his head.

The rest of the day was spent explaining minute details about the wizarding world, before McGongall merely handed him a book about the History of Hogwarts. They spent the rest of the day drinking tea and reading books. Harry tried not to think about _how_ he got here, about the horrible things that were just waiting for him to wake up from this odd dream. It was just too surreal to be true, no matter what Ilun said.

It turned out that McGongall didn’t have to send an ‘owl’ for someone to fetch the thestral.

“Stay here.” The woman stopped, closing a book shortly before dinner. A second later, she left the tent.

“Well…” Her hair was a little askew when she came back into the tent. “It appears the thestral has decided to find you rather than the other way around. Would you like to see him?”

There was an odd note in her voice as she said those words. Harry nodded. Darting from his seat, and grabbing the cloak on his way. 

“Stay near me.” She stepped in front of him, leading the way out of the tent. There was a hoot of an owl as they stepped outside, the woods alive with the sounds of early dusk, crickets just beginning to chirp. 

There just at the edge of the clearing, stood the thestal. Harry moved forward, around McGonagall, who reached out for a moment, but halted mid air.

“ _He was worried about you.”_ Ilun gave as way of an explanation as the thestal moved forward and bowed to Harry.

McGonagall had a wand out and looked as if she was about to attack.

_“Do not worry, Minerva, none of my creatures would dare harm Harry,”_ Ilun’s voice carried over to Harry, but he paid little mind, going over to the thestral and petting it’s leathery neck. It snorted and nodded its head almost in greeting. Harry hesitantly, but with contradicting enthusiasm, walked around to where the thestral’s neck and back met, a powerful wing tucked in. The thestral remained lowered, eyes tracking Harry beckoning him to get on.

Harry threw one leg over its neck and the thestral proceeded to get up. He quickly scrambled to find something to hold onto, excited about the chance to fly.

* * *

Minerva picked up the cloak that the boy had dropped in his enthusiasm for going to the thestal. How could a child be so enamored with an animal that terrifying? But he seemed so shell shocked that she couldn’t help but indulge him. 

“Are you sure about this Ilun?” She tried to address the spirit. Ilun, Ilun. Where had she heard that name before? And his creatures… 

A magical animal only seen by those who had seen death. An old word for death, the oldest that she knew. Iluna. Oh. She dropped the cloak and then remembered. Remembered the story her mother had whispered to her in the dark of the night. Three brothers, three deathly hallows. A wand, a stone, and a _cloak._

The cloak shimmered at her feet, as if all the stars in the night sky had been woven into it. Magnificent with an old magic.

Death.

“I need a chair.” She transformed a rock into a stony bench and sat. Staring down at the cloak, she addressed it. “Death. So that old tale had some truth to it.”

_“Many of the stories of mortals have truth to them lost to the ages,_ ” Death spoke gently.

“Why him? Why this child?” The child who had seen so much death. Was it because of the spirit, or was the spirit protecting him because of the death? Minerva didn’t understand. The wizarding world’s savior flying on a thestal, already so unique. She hadn’t told him that part. Hadn’t mentioned his fame. Was worried that it would shock the silent child. He was a baby when Voldemort died. He was only a _child._

_“He is special. Do not fear, I have no intention of bringing him harm. If I had left him, he would not be here in all likelihood,_ ” Death’s voice grew almost angry toward the end, the insinuation only affirmed her belief of the boy’s relatives.

She wondered if the wizarding world was ready for this child. For the quiet wrath that lingered in his wake, to any that did him harm. A part of her paused. Voldemort supporters were called Death Eaters. The ones who in all likelihood had been the ones who set fire to Number Four Privet Drive. They, who had thrown themselves into the darkness, thought all dark creatures to be on their side. Vampires, dementors and even thestrals. 

She wondered what this meant and shivered.

A part of her knew Albus had no idea. As much as she was loyal to and admired the old headmaster, he was an excellent tactician, she knew that had no idea about this. His primary concern was Voldemort. They both knew he wasn’t truly gone. Minerva could even confirm that by just asking _Death_ himself. 

_He is special._ Minerva quietly agreed. A child who was only shown real affection by death. Then quietly, she wondered about her previous conversation with the child.

“Is he injured?” She kept her voice low, not wanting to be overheard when the child returned from his flight. Hopefully, he would return.

_“He was. I healed what I could,_ ” Death responded shortly.

Minerva nodded. She would just have to get Poppy to take a look at him. Her mind was still trying to process everything. 

_“Do you fear me?_ ” Death asked quietly, she had almost forgotten he was there.

_Did_ she fear him? Minerva knew what her boggart was, and it wasn’t death. So he wasn’t her greatest fear. She was unnerved, without a doubt. Never in her life had she expected this. Or even what that old prophecy meant. 

“No, I’m too old to fear the inevitable.” 

Death chuckled.

_“Do not worry, you have many more years to come,_ ” his voice almost full of mirth.

“If it’s all the same to you. I rather not know. I never liked divination.” But Minerva found herself smiling. She had the vague notion that this wouldn’t be the last chat she had with Death. 

_“As you wish,_ ” Death agreed.

The thestral flew back into view, and the boys’ emerald eyes shown. Not the eerie hollow gaze that she had first seen, but one that held actual joy. Joy of flying. She wondered if he had ever flown on a broom. Well, she could get him more than one present, surely his relatives never gave him anything for his birthday.

  



	4. The Boy Who Lived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Chapter! This is the first time I have consistently posted biweekly (LilyofAzra). Largely because BattleScarredKitsune is an excellent co-writer and we wrote ahead! Please let us know what you think or what you think might happen next.

They spent the whole of July in that forest in Trent. Though after two weeks another witch would occasionally joined them. Madam Poppy Pomfrey, her manner as equally no nonsense as McGongall’s. She sat and had tea with Harry a few times when McGongall had to run out for headmistress duties. Occasionally she looked as if she wanted to ask him a question but decided against it. 

A part of Harry loved it. The quiet of the woods and being able to ride Ash every day. McGongall had even transformed an acorn into a golden ball with wings for Harry to try and catch as he flew. It was more fun than he could ever remember having. 

“There is something I haven’t discussed,” McGongall mentioned over breakfast that morning. Harry was less timid in digging into the meal. “It’s just due to what Voldemort did, most call him He-who-must-not-be-named.” She must have caught his look, because she explained further. “He put a trace on his name so that he could find any who said it. He disappeared the night your parents died. But _you_ lived.”

Harry looked back, eyes wide.

“It made you a bit famous among the wizarding community. They will want to meet you.”

“Will I have to talk to them?” Harry asked hesitantly.

“No.” Her expression softened. 

Harry nodded slowly.

“They however have heard about what happened to your relatives. I’m afraid we couldn’t keep it out of the papers.”

He couldn’t help but shake, fear clawing at his gut. There were too many memories there and the fire, so close… the crackling of the wood, the smell of burning flesh. His body continued to shake. 

“Take even breaths.” A calm voice repeated. “It’s okay.” Then a vial of silver liquid appear in front of him. “It’s a calming draught. Poppy made them for you.”

_“It’s alright, it won’t hurt you,_ ” Ilun comforted.

Harry took the vial and drank the contents, starting to feel a bit more relaxed. “Do we have to go now?”

“ _It will be best if you take care of this soon,_ ” Ilun commented.

“It’ll be quietest on a tuesday morning.” Minerva answered. “And you do need to get your wand in person.”

“Okay,” Harry spoke quietly.

“ _I made you a wand once.”_ Ilun’s tone sounded nostalgic. 

McGonagall stood, “Please get ready, we will depart once you are finished. There are fresh clothes in your room.”

_“Are you okay, Harry?”_ Ilun asked.

Harry picked up the black long sleeve shirt, the material was soft as all the clothes had been and the pair of jeans. He had never gone shopping before. Not for his own things. A part of him was excited and a part of him was terrified. 

“ _Will they know about you as well. McGonagall was aware of you?”_ Harry removed his pajamas and put on the clothes. It was odd having clothes that fit. He asked for looser clothes and McGonagall had obliged, but still these fit far better than any he had before. 

_“No, Harry, only you will be aware of me. Keep the cloak close to you, just in case,_ ” Ilun assured.

Harry’s grip tightened on the cloak as he nodded. He tucked it into his pocket, which was the perfect size to fit the cloak. Though no one could tell it was there as if like the tent, the pocket was bigger on the inside. Looking at himself in the mirror, he almost didn’t recognize himself. Only the eerie green eyes and messy hair were the same, he never seen himself so clean before. For a second, he thought he looked like a normal kid and not a freak. He could do this. McGonagall wouldn’t hurt him and maybe would even protect him. Maybe for a little bit, he could pretend he was just a wizard kid going to school like all the others.

“What exactly will we be doing in Diagon Alley?” If he knew then he could tick things off as they did. There was a plan. He only had to make it through it.

“We are going to purchase the materials you need for your first year at Hogwarts,” McGonagall answered. “Are you ready, Mr. Potter?”

Harry nodded. He was as ready as he’ll ever be.

“We will teleport or apparate there. Make sure too hold on tight. It’ll be side-long apparition. It can sometimes make people feel sick. Now follow me outside.” McGonagall stepped through the tent. Ash, the thestal, was devouring a rabbit in the meadow. Harry went to pat him on the side. He just caught the tent folding in on itself into a prefectly square block. McGonagall stepped forwarded in pick it up.

“Are we not returning here afterwards?”

“No. We’ll go to my cottage afterwards.” Then she put her arm out. “Now take my arm, Mr. Potter, and we’ll be off.”

He placed his hand on her arm and felt a pulling sensation in his gut. Everything seemed to distort and he suddenly felt sick. The next thing he knew, his feet were on solid ground once again, but the world was still spinning and he felt woozy.

_“Breathe slowly, it will pass, Bizitza_ ,” Ilun soothed.

_“I don’t like apparation_ ,” Harry decided. Ilun chuckled.

“You are well?” McGonagall asked. 

“I think my stomach is gone, but otherwise yes,” Harry stated dryly.

“Peppermint.” The candy was pulled out of her pocket. “We’ll go to Gringotts first. It’s the bank. Your parents left you some money and we’ll use it to pay for your expenses.” 

“I have money?” Harry looked up surprised. He never had anything but a picture that burned and the cloak. That was it.

“Yes, you do.” She studied. “You also inherited more than money. That cloak for instance, once belonged to your father as well. Anyway, let’s be on our way.”

She took a step towards the wobbly marble building that was down the alley. There were a few scattered mothers shopping with their children, but overall the place was packed with shops, falling in on each other, some of the signs were even moving. It looked like some place out of a dream. All the people were wearing cloaks, but none paid them any heed. Too busy going about their day. 

They walked into the large marble building and Harry paused, before hiding a bit more behind McGonagall. He wasn’t sure what they were, but they scared him.

_“They will not hurt you_ ,” Ilun assured him.

“Goblins. They run the banks. Always treat them with politeness.” McGonagall spoke low enough for him to hear, as she stepped forward in line, her emerald robes ruffling. “Harry Potter is here to make a withdrawal.” 

“And does Mr. Harry Potter have his key?” the goblin leaned over the counter, looming over Harry. Before Harry could say anything, the headmistress produced a key and handed it to the goblin, who sat back, the sneer on his fading away. Another goblin stepped up and took the key, looking at him and the headmistress. A few of the other patrons heads turned towards him. 

“Follow me,” the newcomer spoke nasally. They wandered down into the depths and Harry felt his heart race. He didn’t know where they were going and the dark, dank almost dungeon-like building.

After they had taken what was almost like a mini train, they stopped at a large door. The goblin stepped out of the car giving directions as he readied to open the door. Harry held back, getting out of the car, but otherwise staying out of the way. When the door opened, however, he froze, eyes trying to take in what he saw.

There were mounds of gold in the vault, more than he ever thought he would see, just sitting there. He looked back up at McGonagall, wanting to ask if this was really _his_. 

“Do remember to be responsible. We only need a handful of galleons, the gold coin, for our shopping today.” He nodded and proceeded to take a handful of gold coins, placing them in his pocket. 

“Let’s not dawdle.” McGonagall turned on the ball of her foot and headed back to the cart. “We’ll go to Flourish and Blotts first,” she continued as they left Gringots. The street was a little busier than when they had first walked down the cobbled streets and Harry found himself walking a step behind the headmistress. 

“This way.” They entered a shop where books flew above them magically shelving themselves. There was no indication of section nor placement but the head mistress plucked books out of shelves with a precision that spoke of long practice. “If you would like feel free to grab a book for yourself.” Harry just stared in awe.

_“Head toward the back, there is a book I think you should have,_ ” Ilun spoke quietly. He guided Harry over to a section in the back. _“There is a book on thestrals just to your left, it may be of interest to you._ ”

Harry plucked the book from the shelf. An image of a thestral was engraved in the front, it’s odd skeleton like head. 

“I was not aware they had that book. Though given your situation, adapt choice. Come along, we wanted to finish before the afternoon rush.”

They purchased their books. McGonagall uttered a quick spell and gave them back to Harry. It’s weight was a light as a feather, almost as if the bag was empty. Harry had to check twice to confirm that all those books were still there. 

McGonagall glanced back down at Harry, “We need to acquire robes for you.” She continued down the street to another store, striding in confidently and gesturing Harry to follow.

“Oh. Another muggle-born for Hogwarts?” A plump lady bustled forward a measuring tape following her like an obedient bird. “You’ll be wanting the full set then.”

“Yes. Just the black, they can be spelled for his house later.” McGonagall answered. 

“Sure. Just follow me young man. There’s another new Hogwarts student in the back as well getting fitted for his robes.” The woman held a curtain opened. “There’s a new set of emerald robes if you would like to look at while we get his measurements, Minerva.” 

A boy with blond hair stepped out, shrugging into a cloak. He locked eyes with Harry, and looked him over as if measuring him up. “Another first year?” the boy asked brusquely.

Harry nodded. There was something off putting in the other’s manner. He remembered

McGonagall saying he didn’t have to speak if he didn’t want to. The boy looked to be his age as well, with hair properly groomed back. It was even gelled. He wasn’t even sure what to say to the other boy. The other boy merely shrugged him off and made his way to a woman who held an expensive looking dress robe.

“Ready?” There was a little pedestal in the middle of the dressing room. “Just stand on the stool and tapey,” the measuring tape moved forward, “will take your measurements. It should be relatively quick. Are there any specifications you want?” At his blank look, she continued, “A few students get pockets that are larger on the inside, but that’s a neat bit of spell work and will cost you extra.” 

_“I can help you modify your clothes if you decide to later,_ ” Ilun commented, soothing his worries.

“That’s okay,” Harry spoke softly.

“Very well. Do let us know if you change your mind. We can do special orders as well.” Her tone was matter of fact, as the tape measure fluttered around Harry, expanding then retracting. She recorded down random numbers, before flickering her wand as black cloth danced in the air, a pair of scissors, needle and thread followed it. Within moments, a robe was formed shortly followed by trousers and a grey long sleeve shirt. They folded in on themselves on the free stool next to them.

“Try them on!” She waved her hands towards. Then she twirled a mirror towards him. “I’ll step out, while you do so.” He nodded and, when she was out of the dressing room, stripped down and tried on the robes.

“ _You will get used to the robes_ ,” Ilun chuckled as Harry kept looking at the mirror and holding up the robes as if unsure he was wearing them correctly. 

_“Do all wizards and witches wear these?_ ” Harry asked, confused when thinking about how the Dursleys had dressed. 

“ _Don’t think about it, Harry. Why don’t you change back, so we may continue with what you need to purchase,_ ” Ilun suggested.

Harry nodded, feeling his mind go a little blank as he changed clothes. Sometimes it felt like he had died with the Dursleys, died and gone some place wonderful and strange. Terrifying too, with a murder that had wanted to kill his parents. There was so much about this world that he didn’t know. So much of the _world_ that he didn’t know. He didn’t even fully understand what it meant that Death had taken such an interest in him. 

“All set then?” McGonagall asked as he stepped outside of the dressing room. Harry nodded, feeling as if he was going to be doing a lot of that today. She looked at Harry for a moment. “Let us take a repast for the moment. There is a lovely place not far from here where we can get a small nosh.” 

Harry followed the headmistress, letting his eyes travel around, taking in all the different stores.

_“We can always come back, Harry,_ ” his companion’s voice added.

“Here we are,” McGonagall spoke, turning to face Harry. She made a gesture with her arm for Harry to walk in first. The store was filled with small tables with a two or three chairs around them. The smell of coffee and chocolate permeated the air and Harry relaxed. There were few patrons in the store and that suited him well. He followed McGonagall up to the counter and both ordered some tea, with Harry shyly asking for some crumpets as well, earning a small smile from his guardian.

They sat down at a table further away from the rest of the customers near the back and Harry felt the warmth of Ilun’s presence surround him as he enjoyed his tea. Sitting here was nice, different, but welcome. He had never been allowed such a place with his relatives. If they ever did go out, he was to remain quiet and agree with whatever was given to him. More often than not, he was forced onto someone else or locked in the cupboard while they went out. He was never allowed into the nicer restaurants, his aunt and uncle fearing his strangeness. Fearing that he would do something unexplained and ruin their seemingly perfect life.

He felt himself calm in the quiet atmosphere and relaxed. No one really paid him any mind and he could just blend in with the crowd. Best of all, he could watch this new world without being accosted as a freak, though a small part of him still felt distant, different from the others around him.

“Aa-another first year, Pro-professor McGonagall?” A quivering voice asked in the midst of Harry take a sip of tea. Harry turned towards the man. And paused. His heart pounded in his chest. There was something _wrong_ with that man, worse even than his Uncle Veron. Harry stilled completely. Then he almost felt a wave of comfort from the cloak in his pocket.

“ _Ilun?”_ The sense of something being off expanded.

_“Do not react, stay calm,_ ” his voice resonated between them.

“Professor Quirell, I did not expect to see you here,” the headmistress spoke calmly.

“Y-yes. I th-thought that I..I might do so-some shopping.” Quirrell continued, then glanced at Harry. “An-and who is this young boy?”

“I suppose you will find out eventually.” McGonagall sighed as she put down her tea cup. “This is Harry.”

“Oh.” Then Quirell leaned forward and whispered. “As in-”

“The very same.” McGonagall briskly cut him off.

“P-pleasure to me-met you.” Quirrell quivered as he nodded towards Harry. “W-well. I b-best be o-off.”

Then the man scampered off.

“That was strange.” Harry couldn’t help but comment, confused. The siren in the back of his was still silently going off, until the other left the shop.

“ _What was he, Ilun?”_ Harry didn’t understand, not even his uncle gave him such an uneasy feeling. Though, perhaps that was more due to familiarity than anything else. 

_“Someone you should be wary of,_ ” was all the other said.

Harry merely nodded.

“Yes, he hasn’t really been the same since he went on sabbatical.” McGonagall shook her head as she drained the last of her tea. Then she glanced at Harry. “We really just have your wand and a pet.” She pulled out the supple sheet. “Oh, as well as your cauldron and potion supplies. But we can have those things delivered if you wish to finish more quickly. I dislike the apothecary. Are you ready to go?” 

Harry nodded his head again. “Yes,” he murmured quietly.

“Just as a warning. Mr. Ollivander is a little…” she paused for a moment, “odd and he’s even older than I am. Come along then. If we hurry we can make it to the cottage for a late lunch.” 

They made their way outside the tea shop. McGonagall leaving a few of the silver coins, sickles to pay for their tea. A small dingy sign that stated Ollivanders makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.

“If you feel comfortable going in alone, I could get the rest of your items.” McGonagall study the wand shop. “It can take a bit of time finding a proper fit.”

“ _You’ll stay with me right Ilun?”_ Harry felt that he would be fine as long as Ilun was besides him. 

“ _Always.”_

Harry gave McGonagall a nod. She nodded in return and gave him a tight smile before bustling off. 

The inside of the shop was lined with thin boxes, with neatly written calligraphy marking what they were. For a second Harry thought the man that stepped forward was a ghost, white hair and fair skin, pale eyes gleaming like moons through the gloom of the shop.

“Mr. Potter, I was wondering when you would come in. Seems like only yesterday that I sold you parents their very first wands as well.” The man swung towards him on a library ladder. It clinked, startling Harry, making him take a hesitant step back. 

“My parents?” 

“Yes,” Ollivander paused a moment thinking, “your father’s was 11 inches, mahongany and pliable. Your mothers was willow and quite swishy.” Then he pulled off a box from the wall of boxes. “Here try this.” Harry took the wand and paused holding it and staring at Ollivander. “Well give it a wave.” Startled, he pointed it a series of shelves off to the side. The boxes ejected from their homes until they hit others and fell to the floor.

“Oh dear, apparently not.” Another wand was placed in front of him. “Why not give this one a whirl?”

Several vials and boxes in another aisle exploded and he quickly put the want down. Harry heard Ilun chuckle and sigh, _“There is a much better wand for you. It is unfortunate that I cannot give it to you now.”_

“Curious.” Ollivander paused for a moment considering one box, and pulled out the wand. He silently handed it to Harry. Harry silently took it. A warm wind washed over him, a comfort carried with the slight sound of a beautiful song. One Harry had never heard before.

“Very curious.”

“Sorry?” Harry asked quietly, a mix of terror and curiosity. “But what is curious?”

“Curious that wand would choose you.” Ollivander was looking at him oddly. “The phoenix that gave the feather to that one gave one other. It is curious that you would be destined for this wand, while it’s brother was the one that gave you that scar.” Ollivandar pointed the mark in the middle of his forehead.

_“A phoenix, quite fitting for you, Bizitza,”_ pondered Ilun.

“ _What_ is _a phoenix?”_ Harry had never heard the term. Maybe he should have picked up a book about magical beasts, there was that odd furry book that was chained up. 

“ _A special type of magical bird. You really must see one to understand it.”_

“It isn’t always clear why a wand chooses a wizard.” Ollivander continued, “but I think it is clear that we can expect great things from _you_. After all, he-who-must-not-be-named did great things, terrible, but great.”

Harry shivered, but nodded as he paid for his wand. Ollivanadar gave him a wand holster for free as well, telling him to put it above his jeans. McGonagall was waiting for him outside.

There was a small parcel placed inside a cauldron that she held onto while she waited for him to meet her, her presence still demanding of ever. When he reached her, she nodded to him once and turned, knowing exactly where they needed to go. It was busier now, the afternoon picking up more customers, other witches and wizards walking every which way. Harry walked closer to McGonagall, not liking the growing throng of people.

_“It will be over soon, Bizitza,”_ Ilun comforted him.

“Here we are,” the headmistress stopped in front of a shop showcasing animals of all sizes. Cages hung everywhere boasting owls and ferrets, other small animals inside. “You require a familiar for your coursework at Hogwarts.” Harry nodded, looking around. The Dursley’s never had any pets and any animal he had befriended often ended up hurt by Dudley, or worse.

Owls hooted above his head and other critters chittered around closer to his eye level. One, however, caught his attention. Close to the storefront window, a snowy owl perched on a small wooden beam in the cage, it’s feathers ivory with small black spots. Harry walked up to the cage, not minding the rest of the store. The owl turned to him almost curious and hooted quietly. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.

_“She’s a beautiful choice,_ ” Ilun spoke warmly.

Not being able to reach the cage easily, Harry walked up to the counter somewhat nervous. He quickly spoke to the man, wizard he assumed, about wanting to buy the snowy owl. Soon enough, he was carrying the cage, beautiful owl hooting at him.

“I see you found something you like,” McGonagall smiled. 

“Yes. This one.”

“An adept choice.” McGonagall shifted the cauldron to one side. 

_“What will you call her?”_ Ilun asked.

“ _I-I’m not sure. I’ve never had a pet before,_ ” Harry thought quietly.

_“Do not worry, there is time_ ,” he assured.

Harry remained quiet, thinking about the little owl in her cage and everything that he had seen today. The headmistress led them back down the now busy street toward the place they had originally entered. As they walked, a man was shouting “Daily Prophet” and raising his hand, newspaper held high, to get onlookers’ attention. Harry watched the papers grasped in the man’s other hand and gasped when he saw the pictures _moving_. He had often gotten the paper for his uncle and never before had he seen the photos on the newspaper move.

“Harry?” McGonagall’s voice brought him back, realizing he had stopped.

“They move,” he responded, shocked.

“What? Oh,” she nodded in understanding. “The paper. It is quite common for photographs and the like to move.” Harry nodded, still in awe until he managed to read the headline.

THE BOY WHO LIVED FOUND AFTER GRUESOME ATTACK ONLY SURVIVOR ONCE AGAIN

Harry froze, eyes staring at the words. Just below the blocky letters were two pictures, one of a smiling couple holding a baby and another of a building burning. He couldn’t take his eyes off the second photo. Suddenly, he remembered the fire, flames licking at the door, the cracking of wood as the house around him burned. His ears were suddenly filled with screams, his nose assaulted with the smell of burning hair and flesh. He fell to his knees, hands over his ears. The wind around him picked up, but he didn’t notice. People were screaming or shouting, he couldn’t tell. All the voices merged together in a sick mimicry of the cries of his relatives.

He was vaguely aware of McGonagall as she knelt beside him in a flurry of green robes.

“Focus on my voice, Harry.” Her voice was calm and distant as she put a hand on his shoulder. 

_“Harry, you are alright. The fire is no more, it cannot hurt you. They cannot hurt you. Calm, my Bizitza, calm. You are alright,”_ Ilun chanted over and over, Harry’s breathing slowing down to a more steady pace.

Above Ilun’s chant, a cry rang out through the crowd.

“It’s the boy who lived!”

  



	5. Platform 9¾

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos. We hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

“Prepare yourself, Mr. Potter. It is time for us to leave.” McGonagall’s voice was in his ear. A breath later, the world titled and they were no longer in Diagon Alley. 

“Poppy!” McGonagal shouted as nausea waved through Harry. He couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop it from coming up. They’ll be so angry, but he couldn’t prevent his stomach from rising in rebellion. Acid burned the back of his throat as he heaved. Over and over again.

“Poppy! He’s sick.” The vomit vanished a second later as a woman bustled closer. 

“Drink this.” A vial was put into his hand and helped to his mouth. Harry took a cautious sip. Peppermint and a cooling sensation slide down his throat. “It’ll soothe your stomach. What happened?” 

“The paper.” McGonagall sighed as the paper was plucked from his grasp. “I was hoping to avoid any recognition, but I am afraid we weren’t quite discreet enough.”

“That would do it.” Promfrey’s manner was all business like as she knelt beside him, plying him with more of the potion. “Even breaths, Mr. Potter. You’re safe.” 

_ “I’m here, Harry, I’m with you. No one will hurt you, you are safe, _ ” Ilun continued to soothe.

Though his eyes were open, all he could see was the fire replaying in his mind’s eye. The leaping tongues of orange and yellow ate at his skin, his eyes burning from the smoke as his lungs tried so hard to work.

_ “Harry!” _ Ilun’s voice was sharp and he blinked, body shocked out of his waking nightmare. “ _ It isn’t real, Harry. Do not think of it, you are safe. _ ”

“ _ I can still hear them scream.”  _ Amongst the fire, trapped forever in that cupboard. The screams and the fleeing cackles in the night. He didn’t know who they were, nor why they had come for him. And it was him they were after. 

“ _ Why did they burn it?”  _

_ “It was what they were sent to do. Do not trouble yourself with their reasons. Breathe, Harry, just breathe. _ ”

Harry took haltering breathes, vaguely becoming aware of McGonagall and another woman, both hovering above him. He was just sick all over the place. Whenever he had fallen ill with the Dursleys, they always made it so much worry.

“I’m so sorry.” His eyes burned with his shame. Why couldn’t he control himself? He was eleven. He was too old to be freaking out like a little kid. 

“You are safe now, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall’s tone was an odd mix of briskness and warmness.

They spent the rest of the day quietly. Harry leafing through his new books, while McGonagall and Pomfrey spoke in low tones, too quiet for him to make out.

“ _ Why do they care so much about me?”  _ Harry didn’t understand, didn’t understand the crowd that had called out.

_ “Not everyone shares the sentiments of your relatives, _ ” Ilun spoke gently, a warmth spreading across Harry’s cheek as if someone had placed a hand there.

“ _ Why did they call me that?”  _

_ “‘The boy who lived’ is how you are known to the magical community. The wizarding world, to which you will often hear it referred, regard you as the boy who lived through a killing curse _ ,” his guardian explained patiently.

“ _ But I don’t remember any of that. I was just a baby.”  _ Harry protested.

_ “Yes, but they do. Before you were born, the Dark Lord, _ ” Ilun scoffed,  _ “terrorized all those who did not follow him. Your survival consequently meant his end.” _

“ _ How? Why would he end when he fought me?”  _ Harry still didn’t understand. Why had he survived if all the others had died? Why did Ilun, who was  _ Death,  _ even have an interest in him?

_ “Many want to know that answer and Voldemort fears you because of it, but know my mark will not allow anyone to kill you and my protection will keep you safe, _ ” Ilun answered vaguely.

“ _ But why save me?”  _ Harry didn’t understand why he was so important. He was grateful to Ilun for being beside him, because living with the Dursleys would have been so much  _ worse  _ without the other quietly whispering in his mind. 

_ “How could I not?”  _ a sigh followed. _ “I cannot give you all the answers and those that I have should not be given until you can understand.” _

Harry nodded, trying to come to terms with the truth. A Dark Lord had tried to kill him when he was a baby, had killed his parents. For a split second, Harry wondered what it would have been like if they had lived. If he had grown up with them and not the Dursleys. Would they have loved him? 

_ “Yes, Harry, they would have loved you, _ ” the other answering his thoughts.

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall’s voice suddenly broke into his thoughts. “Do you have a preferred meal?” 

Harry stilled. He hadn’t even eaten regular meals till McGonagall had rescued him. 

“Anything you make would be great.” Harry answered, completely honest, too indoctrinated by the Dursleys to give any answer that might lead to more questions then he would like about his life with them. Only for him to realize a second later that they were dead. It didn’t really matter what he said. Still, he didn’t want for her to look at him differently. 

McGonagall merely shook her head.

“Would you like some hot cocoa?” Madam Pomfrey bustled to his side, carrying a tray of three steaming mugs. Harry nodded, he never had it before. 

“Thank you.” He took the mug. It was  _ good,  _ richer than anything he ever tasted before. He finished it before he meant to, as he leafed through Hogwarts a History.

_ “I do believe you were supposed to take your time with that, Bizitza, _ ” a chuckle resounded in his head.

“ _ I never had anything like it.”  _ Harry protested, licking his lips. A second later, Pomfrey came by replacing his mug with another. “ _ I’ll savor this one.” _

Harry flipped another page, and noticed the section about houses. 

“ _ Why do they sort them into different houses?”  _ Harry directed to Ilun, over asking McGonagall and Pomfrey who were busy reading their own books. 

_ “Hogwarts was founded by four individuals and each house represents those four. Your house will become your living and learning environment. The sorting hat places you where it believes you will fit in, _ ” Ilun explained.

“ _ That’s new.”  _ Harry tried to imagine it, as he read the name of witches and wizards who created Hogwarts. The stairs shifted as an old defense mechanism for the students who would learn their rhyme and reason, but would be strange to outsiders. His thoughts flipped back to his parents. Then to the two women sitting in the other arm chairs.

He wanted to ask about them, about what house they were in. He knew his dad was good at transfiguration and his mother at charms from McGonagall, maybe she would know, their houses as well. Still McGonagall said she knew his parents and he was curious. 

“Um…” He started as he closed his book. McGonagall’s attention immediately flipped to him. “What house was my parents in?”

“Gryffindor.” She gave him a small smile. “Though your mother was a hat stall.”

“A hat stall?” Harry had no idea what she meant by that.

“Between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.” McGonagall answered as if that made perfect sense. 

_ “She means that hat was unsure where to place her and wavered between the two, _ ” Ilun enlightened him.

“It’s getting late. You should try to get some rest, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall answered, as she bustled him towards bed. The room in the cottage was the same as the tent, but without the drapes. After he changed, he left the door opened. He didn’t like it being closed. Not in the tent and not here. It made him feel trapped. Staring at the ceiling, he tried to get use to how large the room was.

“ _ Ilun,”  _ Harry thought the events from the day repeating. Memories of the fire and the crowd. He thought of Hogwarts and then of the kids that had hated him elementary. 

_ “Yes, Bizitza? _ ”

“ _ Do you think that they’ll all know? What happened?”  _ It was in the paper. Was his whole life in those papers? Without his knowing or consent? Did they know what the Dursleys did to him? It was odd. The realization that this wizarding world knew more about his parents about his family, then he did. 

_ “No, Harry, only that your family is dead and you were targeted. No one besides myself knows what you went through in that house, _ ” Ilun said quietly.

“ _ That’s good.”  _ But what if had another panic attack again. He didn’t want to be labeled as stranger than he already was. He had already spent his whole life being considered a freak. What did it matter if it continued?

Harry fell into an uneasy sleep for all that he could feel Ilun’s comforting presence. 

McGonagall didn’t wake him up the next morning. Instead the scent of bacon and pancakes wafted through the room. Along with the heavy aroma of coffee. Harry ambled out of the room, hair in a complete disarray, curious. He was still wearing the red and gold pajamas that McGonagall had gotten him, the ones that had a pocket big enough to fit the invisibility cloak without anyone noticing. 

The room was decorated and there were presents on the table. Harry stared at them blankly. One was an odd shape package, wrapped simply in brown paper with a ribbon on top. A chuckle made him blink before he realized it was Ilun, though he didn’t understand what was so funny. 

_ “Happy Birthday, Harry _ ,” he chuckled again.

“ _ I know that,”  _ Harry nodded. The Dursleys had told him the date, just so that he was aware about how little they cared to celebrate it. “ _ But what is all this?” _

“Have a seat, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall nodded to him as she sipped from a large cat shop mug. He swore the cat face in the mug winked at him. 

_ “Do you recall what happened on your cousin’s birthday?” _

“ _ We went to the Zoo and I saw Ash for the first time.”  _ Harry answered blankly. His new white owl flew to his shoulder, before preening through his hair. He decided on the name Hedwig from that book he was flipping through. 

_ “The presents, Harry, _ ” Ilun laughed and Harry could have sworn he felt the other smile.  _ “These are for you. It is common to give people gifts on their birthday. _ ”

“ _ I don’t get gifts.”  _ Harry feed Hedwig a piece of bacon as he sat at the table, still giving the presents a wide breadth. This had to be some sort of joke. 

“We got you a few small gifts.” McGonagall smiled at him. “And we can have cake with tea this afternoon, but I thought you might want to open it.” 

She nodded towards the broom. 

“For me?” Harry stared at McGonagall. Then he remembered the cat from when he was little and the cloak she had given him. This was the second birthday gift she had given him. 

“Yes.” She smiled then purpose her lips. “But please don’t mention it when you get to school. We’re not suppose to have favorites.” 

Harry stared at the gift, a hesitant hand reaching forward to the package. Dazed he undid the package. It was a broom, the words Nimbus 2000 were scrawled on the handle. 

“ _ Ilun, do they  _ fly  _ on brooms?” _

_ “Not everyone has the luxury of a thestral”, _ Ilun laughed, _ “but, yes, Harry, they do. You may enjoy it yourself, _ ” the other commented.

“Quidditch is a popular sport.” McGonagall explained. “And every wizard or witch needs a broom. You could fly with Ash and Hedwig a little if you would like. Or I have a few the balls used in quidditch if you would prefer that. Though the snitch is the only one you can really play with solo.”

“I-” Harry looked at the woman, speechless. For all her brisk no-nonsense manner, she was the first person outside of Ilun that cared. “Thank you.” 

“After breakfast.” Pomfrey came it with a platter of orange juice. “You need to eat more.” 

_ “She isn’t wrong. We can fly later,” _ Ilun agreed.

Harry dug into the pancakes, took of sip of the orange juice, only to realize that the color was wrong and that it was, in fact,  _ pumpkin  _ juice. Still good, just odd to get one taste when expecting another. 

“Happy birthday, dear.” Madam Pomfrey smiled at him and McGonagall nodded. 

An odd warmth settled in his chest. Once he was over the surprise. It was a quite birthday breakfast with a single gift, but it meant more to him than anything. After breakfast, McGonagall gave him a brief instruction on how to fly. Brief mostly, because Harry picked up on it so quickly.

“ _ Do you fly?”  _ Harry asked. He never gave it much thought before, how Ilun managed to get around. But he knew the other was with him, but that he also had other things to do. Being Death and all.

_ “I can if I so choose, _ ” was his only reply.

“ _ How do you generally move? Walking, gliding?”  _ Harry for the millionth time tried to imagine what Ilun looked like, but came up blank. Ilun was always just a warm presence to him. Honestly, before he knew he was death, Harry half thought of him as a guardian spirit. 

_ “One day I shall show you, _ ” his guardian’s soft voice responded, almost pleased.

“ _ Will I be able to see you one day?”  _

“ _ Yes, _ ” was all he said.

Harry smiled. He knew it wouldn’t be soon and that he would have to wait, but someday. In the meantime, he barrel rolled in the sky, then took a sudden dive. McGonagall clapped from below. Her and Pomfrey were out in the garden. Pomfrey was trimming the plants, while McGonagall had a book in her lap, which she wasn’t reading in the slightest.

“Would you like to try to catch a snitch?” She called up to him, a closed briefcase beside her. 

“ _ That’s from the Quidditch game correct?”  _ Harry asked Ilun. It would be fun to chase after something. And Ash was tired of chasing him. The Thestal was currently sitting under a tree munching on another rabbit. 

_ “That is correct. By catching the snitch, the game ends, _ ” Ilun answered.

“ _ That seems silly. What’s the point of all the other balls and players if catching the snitch ends the game?”  _

_ “They make the game more, _ ” there was a pause that had Harry a little confused, that wasn’t like Ilun,  _ “interesting. Quidditch is not like the muggle games you are used to seeing. Perhaps seeing the game played will be informative _ .”

“ _ Probably.”  _ Harry glanced down at McGonagall, but maybe if he played a little he’ll get a better idea. “Yes!”

A gold fluttering ball was released, wings sprouted from its side. It darted up. A flicker of gold in the corner of his eye, and then it was gone. A moment later, it whirled around his face, fast and fleet.

“ _ Where did it go?”  _ Harry glanced around. Catching sight of it a moment later, he directed the broom to dart after it. He continued to chase it, the small gold snitch difficult to track, but there was a part of Harry that thrilled to it. This was fun and it felt  _ good _ .

Grinning, he went up to get a better view. He saw it flickering near Pomfrey. Just near the rose bushes. He dove, sharply, enjoying the way the wind blew past him. Reaching out, he caught it.

Turning he raised his fist to McGonagall, who was staring at him. Then she slowly clapped. 

“You have some talent.” She said with a smile. 

Harry grinned, released the snitch and went after it again.

_ “You did very well, Bizitza _ ,” warmth filled Ilun’s voice.

“You really shouldn’t encourage him, Minerva.” Pomfrey spoke, shaking her head. “The sport can be dangerous.”

“He’s a great flyer. I’ve never seen someone so natural.” McGonagall sipped her tea, and went back to watching him over her book. Hedwig was sleeping on the back of her chair, sleepy as the morning grew later. During tea time, they had a spiced carrot cake. The words Happy Birthday Harry were written in icing. In all honesty, this was the best birthday he ever had. 

Harry flew every day till the end of the summer. Lazy days where he received three proper meals, flew after a snitch throughout the day, and sat with Hedwig and a school book in the evening. 

McGonagll eventually got a second one snitch for him when he started catching the one too quickly. It felt like some odd sort of dream. Too good to be true, even when Ilun repeatedly reassured him it was. Occasionally, McGonagall would be gone for the day, something about headmistress tasks or Pomfrey. But one or the other would always be at the cottage. It was clear they were taking turns, watching him. Harry had offered to stay by himself, but neither would hear of it. 

“The train leaves tomorrow.” McGonagall’s bun was just a little loose. Unnoticable if it hadn’t been an increasing trend lately. Harry understood that she was the headmistress at Hogwarts, but didn’t quite realize how much work went into preparing for the school year. 

“I cannot take you to the train directly,” she continued. “It would draw too much attention. Would you be okay going on your own? There will be plenty of wizards and witches around so it should be safe, but crowded. Or would you prefer me to arrange someone to go with you?”

“I have Ilun.” Harry shook his head. “We’ll be fine on our own.”

“Here.” McGonagall passed him a necklace with a small grey stone cat. “It’s a portkey. Just say this,” she handed him a paper with the word  _ Kitty  _ written on it, “and it’ll take you directly to Hogwarts. Portkey is a bit like apparating, but tends to make most feel even more nauseous their first time traveling this way.” 

“Thank you.” Harry put the necklace over his head, reassured by the carving. He realized it was for an emergency. 

“If you get overwhelmed, feel free to use it. It’ll take you directly to Poppy’s office.” McGonagall gave him a brief nod. “Best to pack your trunk tonight. I casted a feather weight charm on it, so it shouldn’t be difficult to carry. There will be carts at the station for your luggage.”

Then she paused, considering the owl that was sitting by Harry’s head. “I can take Hedwig if you would like as well, since I’m taking Ash. She’ll be able to find you once you arrive at Hogwarts.” 

“Would it be an issue if she accompanied me?” Harry petted Hedwig’s feathers as she ran her beak through his hair.

“No. Most students bring their pets with them. Just keep her in the cage till you are on the train.” She poured more tea for herself and for Harry. “Have you been on a train platform before?”

Harry shook his head.

“It’s the third pillar from the start of the platform. There are four pillars, the entrance is through the third one. Nine and three quarters. I’ll try to have it so you arrive when some others would likely be going through.”

_ “Do not worry, Bizitza, I can guide you through, _ ” Ilun assured.

“ _ Thank you, Ilun.”  _ Harry nodded. “Ilun will help me if I get lost.”

“Yes.” She sipped her tea as she passed him some biscuits. “Please do not mention him to the other students, or that you’ve stayed with me for half of the summer.”

“Or that you got me a present.” Harry smiled. McGonagall blinked at him, a slow smile crossed her face as she shook her head. 

“Yes, that too.”

“Of course, Professor.” Harry’s grin widened. “I’ll leave it a mystery. Afterall, they already know almost everything else about me.”

“If you would like, we could have tea once a week. Just to check on how classes are going, or if you need anything.” McGonagall’s eyes danced with amusement. “To make sure you stay out of trouble.” 

“I’ll do my best.” Then Harry glanced out of the window, Ash sitting under a tree, half dozing. 

“The Gameskeeper, Hagrid will accompany you when you want to see Ash. He’ll be the one greeting the first years.” McGonagall caught his look. “He’s quite nice. He’s thrilled about having a thestal to help watch over.” 

Harry nodded, taking another sip of chamomile tea, trying to fight the nerves that was settling in his stomach. There were going to be so many people and they were all apparently going to know about him and he wasn’t sure how to deal with that.

_ “I will be here with you always, _ ” his guardian, who seemed to always know his thoughts, assured and soothed.

“You will be fine, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall added, in her own attempt of being soothing. 

He watched as Harry fell into a fitful sleep. As much as he was loathe to leave his charge’s side for even a moment, he wanted to make certain aspects clear to his new caretaker. He had not spoken to Minerva in quite some time. Sensing around him, Ilun found the headmistress alone in the main room of the cottage drinking tea. A smile framed his lips as Lady Luck seemed to agree with the necessity of their talk.

“You have taken a liking to Harry,” he spoke, not giving any warning of his presence.

McGonagall gave a small start, her cup of tea sloshing in her hands. She took an even breath and answered, “He’s a good kid, despite everything that happened.” She took another breath. “I just worry where he’s going to go at the end of the year. I’m half tempted to contact the last of his parents’ close friends.”

“Contact the wolf,” he spoke gently, but with enough force to let her know it was not merely a suggestion. “I will not have him live with muggles again.”

“He can stay with me during the full moon,” Minerva added. 

“Harry will be in no danger. He can stay with him for the entire summer, nothing will harm him.”

“And how do I explain to concerned parties that he will be in no danger from a were wolf, because a spirit guardian is watching over him.” Minerva had carefully avoided calling him death lately. “We could have Remus take wolfsbane as a precaution.” 

She paused, taking another sip of her tea.

“Are you going to reveal yourself to him as well?” 

Ilun smiled to himself, “The wolf will have what and who he needs, after all, the dog will need to run as well. Do not worry yourself, they will know what they need.”

“I never thought Death would be one for riddles.” 

“Life is full of them. Did you think you would be rid of them in death?”

Minvera shook her head. “It’s still difficult to believe. I’m a little worried how he’ll settle with the other students. He’s quiet.”

“Perhaps to you,” Ilun nodded unseeingly. He may want to get Harry to converse more, but he also knew the darker spots in his charge’s life.

“You will look after him won’t you? And let me know if there is anything I need to know. I’ve already set up making special allowances for him to go to the Forbidden forest with Hagrid, but he does have that invisibility cloak.” She swirled her spoon in her tea considering. “I disagree with Albus placing the stone at Hogwarts this year. It’s just asking for trouble.”

“I will look out for him, but,” and he paused, it was not often he had what mortals called a heart to heart moment. “There are things he will need to learn on his own.”

“That is why he’s going to school.” Minevra added.

“Not all of what one learns in life is academic, Minerva. Surely you know this better than most,” he spoke knowingly.

Minerva gave a brief smile as she drained the last of her tea. “I’ll see about contacting Remus and arranging things. I haven’t spoken to him much since…”

She trailed off, clearly thinking about the Potters. 

“Well, good night, Ilun.” Minerva placed the teacup in the sink.

“Sleep well, Minerva,” he replied, quick to return to Harry. As he approached the boy, Harry settled and Ilun smiled, caressing the pale skin of his forehead before he returned to his duty as watchful guardian.

The first thing Harry noticed was that it was loud, the second was that there were people everywhere bustling to and fro and not one seemed to care he was there. He looked around at the posted signs and markers and slowly made his way to where platforms nine and ten were situated. Looking down at his ticket, for he remembered what the professor said and could see it clearly in the black ink on his ticket, he was still uncertain of  _ where _ his train was.

_ “You need to walk onto the platform, Harry. It is literally between platforms nine and ten, in plain sight but outside the reach of muggles _ ,” Ilun continued to guide him.

“ _ They make you run through a brick wall?”  _ Harry stared at the platform dubiously. There was a pillar, the third one, that by all accounts was the proper entrance, but still. He glanced at Hedwig, who blinked one eye back at him. She was perfectly calm and composed despite all the chaos. 

“This way, packed with Muggles every year.” A woman’s voice called over the crowd. A pack of bright red headed children of various ages followed her like ducklings. Harry turned to look at her. He heard McGonagall used that term as well. Moving his cart to be a little bit more to the side, he decided he’d watch them get on the platform then. They paused right before the third pillar. 

“Now Precy, dear, you should go first.”

_ “Just watch, _ ” Ilun finally responded. Harry stood a little to the side, but the others weren’t looking around. The boy took an even breath and then charged directly into the pillar. A second later he had disappeared, instead of being a pile of cart and luggage.

Harry moved forward, quietly. This  _ was  _ the right place.

“Fred, George, you two next.” The woman continued. The two were clearly twins and dressed identically down to the hair cut as if to prove it. They went through the pillar one after another, making a joke about their names.

“Ron, you ready dear?” The woman turned to the youngest boy, but her eyes landed on Harry as well.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there dear, Hogwarts as well?”

Harry nodded. He wondered if it was the owl that gave him away. 

“It’s Ron first time too. Best do so at a run.” 

“ _ I’m willing running into a brick wall.”  _ Harry thought to Ilun, nerves twisting in his stomach, but the woman and her two remaining kids gave him a reassuring smile. 

_ “I promise, the brick wall will not hurt you, _ ” the other chuckled, but managed to still sound sure.

“ _ If you’re sure.”  _

_ “I am _ ,” Ilun assured. Harry took an even breath and dashed forward, half expecting the wall to stop him, hard. It didn’t happen. A noisy platform filled with people wearing robes and a beautiful old steam engine train, painted red and black. It looked like one of those models that Uncle Vernon had ordered once for Dudley. A week later the train had been destroyed by his cousin and Harry had been blamed.

That had hurt.

“You okay, dear?” The woman put a hand on his shoulder. Harry half jumped, half flinched, startled. The whistle to the train blew, but nodded quickly. “Well best get on. Fred, George, help him and your brother with their things.”

The two moved in sync to grab his trunk, startled when they could easily pick it up.

“Feather light charm.” Harry muttered, when they gave him an odd look. Harry followed them onto the train, the inside was of course, larger than the outward appearance. He could do this. They hadn’t realized who he was yet, but maybe, just maybe, Hogwarts wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if Professor McGonagall was there.

  
  



	6. The Castle by the Lake

Harry thought the compartment was way too luxurious. The cushions were far too comfortable. The boy, Ron, he had entered on the train with ended up in the same compartment, plainly unsure of himself as well. 

“This is Scabbers.” It was a plain brown rat, one of its paws was deformed. Rather ugly, and from what Ron was saying about its age. It should have been dead.

“ _Is there something off about that rat?”_

 _“Do not touch that foul creature,_ ” Ilun snarled, which shocked Harry.

“Do you want to pet him?” Ron asked, holding the rat out.

Harry shook his head. Ron’s smile lowered. Harry wasn’t sure why. Instead, he stroked Hedwig’s feather. 

“That’s a beautiful owl. What’s her name?” The other boy asked.

“Hedwig,” Harry answered simply, not really sure what else to say. Hedwig merely started preening his hair again. Apparently, she never thought it was neat enough. 

“I would love to have an owl, but all we have is Errol. He’s old a little slow at delivering the mail.”

“ _Owls deliver the mail?”_ Harry asked Ilun, more comfortable with his guardian and not wanting to seem like an idiot in front of this clearly wizard child. 

_“Yes. They have an innate sense of where to go with whatever they are delivering_ ,” Ilun explained gently, a sharp contrast to his previous outburst.

“Does she always groom you like that? Our owl never does that.”

“She’s just fond of me, I guess,” Harry tried to answer ambiguously, feeling different even among those who were different. Maybe he really was a freak. His relatives had it right all along. 

“I wish I had an animal that liked me.” The boy continued, his tone envious. “She must have cost a small fortune.”

Harry suddenly realized he had no real idea how the money system worked. He merely paid what people told him to, but all that gold sitting in the bank. How much was it actually? He never even had a pound to his name before. 

_“Do not worry, it will come with time and practice. But be wise. There is a difference between comfort and arrogance,_ ” his guardian’s voice sounded very much like a teacher.

“ _I know,”_ Harry added. “ _He’s looking at me again.”_

Harry had no friends in primary, in fact, most of the other kids avoided him. Whispers of ‘freak’ and ‘creep’ had always followed him. His teachers frequently labeled him as difficult and disruptive for all that he rarely spoke.

 _“It’s okay, Harry, I will help you_.”

It was easier to speak with Ilun now than when he was younger. 

“Why didn’t your parents see you off?” Ron’s tone was curious.

“They’re dead,” Harry answered simply.

“I’m sorry.” Ron’s cheeks turned a little pink

“Why? It’s not like you killed them.” 

The other went quiet after that. Not knowing what else to do, Harry pulled out his book about thestrals.

“What are you reading about _those_ for? They’re bad luck.”

Harry heard a sigh, _“Foolish mortal. Thestrals are creatures like any other. They have simply been chosen to represent death. You may learn this at Hogwarts, but death, as an arcana, represents transition, often an end to something and the start of something else.”_

“Only those who’ve seen death can see them,” Harry quoted from the book. “They’re simply creatures.”

“Have you,” Ron lowered his voice, “seen them?”

Harry nodded. 

“Oh.” The other sat there uncomfortable for a long moment. 

Harry watched some of the scenery passed, moving Hedwig to his lap. Ron did the same, pulling out some sandwiches to nibble on, which he shared with his rat.

Ron pulled out an old worn folded chess board when he opened it the pieces moved on their own to the proper positions.

“Do you want to play?” 

“What are the rules?” Harry looked at the board, the pieces were scratched and one knight was missing his spear, but they moved on their own. A light appeared in the other’s eyes and he went into a detail explanation about the rules. 

Their game began.

Harry played black, though Ron was insisting to let him play white, but he didn’t want to go first. He rather wait. He was amused when the pieces started cursing at each other. 

“ _What move should I make next?”_ The game was not as easy as he was hoping it would be. Either he was terrible at it or the other was way better than he was pretending to be.

 _“He favors his knights, but is not afraid of losing a piece or two to gain the upper hand, move the bishop diagonally until it is diagonal to his king,”_ Ilun instructed.

Harry moved the bishop. Ron leaned forward intently, his little sandwiches long forgotten. He carefully moved a pawn to counter. Harry shameless asked for Ilun’s advice whenever he got stuck. The game was fun of a different sort. A challenge he hadn’t had before.

“Check,” Ron said as he moved a knight in place to get his king. Instead of moving his king, Harry followed Ilun’s advice and moved his queen. A perfect location to block his king and to put his opponent's king into check.

“Check.”

After a few more turns, Ron studied the board considering the location of their two kings, as he took Harry’s queen. The board missing all but a few pawns now and their two kings facing off.

“It’s a tie.” He sounded stunned. “I’ve never had a tie before.”

Then Ron grinned at him. “Want to play again?”

A knock at the compartment door revealed a woman with a ton of snacks. Harry was particularly hungry. He ate breakfast and felt too nervous to try to eat lunch. 

“ _You should get something. They have vegetable pies and other snacks that would be fine for an uneasy stomach.”_

“ _I’ll eat when we get there.”_ Harry was still worried that he might need to use the necklace McGonagall had given him and he rather not be sick everywhere. 

“I’m good.” Ron held up his sandwiches.

“Anything off the trolley for, you dear.”

 _“Get something to eat, Bizitza_ ,” Ilun all but ordered.

“You didn’t bring anything?” Ron asked. Harry shook his head. 

“We have peppermint patties if you’re feeling nervous, dear, and some light pastries.” The trolley woman was looking at him with concern. 

“He’ll get some chocolate frogs,” Ron answered with authority, digging into his bag and pulled out a few of the bronze pieces. “Or um just one.” 

“I’ll give you two and a pumpkin pastry as well.” The woman took the knuts and passed them two odd colored boxes. The pumpkin pastry she handed directly to Harry. Harry took it.

 _“Give her two silver coins_ ,” Ilun’s voice spoke in his mind.

“I can pay for it.” Harry pulled out two of the silver coins. The woman smiled and took the coins. Ron looked at him surprised. 

“Thank you for offering.” He directed to Ron once the trolley woman had left. “I should probably eat something.” Or else he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Ilun. 

“Nervous?” Ron asked, his tone sympathetic.

Harry nodded.

“Me too. I hear you have to fight a troll to get sorted.” He sounded likely he truly believed that.

“I thought it was some sort of hat.” Harry remembered what McGonagall had mentioned about a hat stall. 

“I hope so. I don’t think I could fight a troll and I don’t want to run away screaming from one. All my brothers were sorted into Gryffindor. I’m hoping to go to the same house.” 

Harry merely nodded as he took a bit into the pumpkin pastry. It had a nice spice flavored to it and tasted more like a cake than anything else. 

_“Do you have a preference, Harry?”_ Ilun asked suddenly.

“ _McGonagall said my parents were in Gryffindor.”_ Harry thought about it, but he didn’t know much about the other houses, besides the bit he read about who founded what house. Gryffindor had something to do with bravery. “ _I don’t think I’m brave enough to make it though.”_

He had done nothing in the fire, hadn’t saved anyone. Wouldn’t the brave thing be to fight to get out, to try and save his relatives? Even if he had been stuck in the cupboard, he could still have found a way. No matter how cruel the Dursleys had been, they hadn’t deserved to die like that. He could still hear their screams some nights.

 _“Harry, you are brave and you have much potential. Do not discount yourself over how you were treated. You survived because you are brave,_ ” the sincerity in Ilun’s voice was easily heard.

“ _I survived because you helped me. You taught me how to heal myself.”_ There had been a day where he wasn’t sure if he would wake up the next one, for how much he hurt. Uncle Vernon had been drunk and, even now, Harry couldn’t remember all the details. Only the pain, Ilun, and then blissful darkness.

 _“I promised to look out for you, Bizitza, and I can only do so much for you as I am. You have more courage and bravery than you know,_ ” Ilun reiterated.

“Are you okay?” Ron put a hand on his shoulder, startling Harry. Harry flinched back. 

“Yeah. Sorry. Did you say something?”

“What house do you want to go to?”

“I guess Gryffindor,” there had been another house that seemed okay, the one for wit being a treasured, “or Ravenclaw, they seem like okay houses.”

“Yeah. I mean Hufflepuff is okay too. I hear their rooms are right by the kitchen. But Slytherin’s the worse.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, head cocked slightly.

“All the dark witches and wizards go there, you know,” he lowered his voice, “you-know-who followers and the like.” 

“ _You-know-who?_ ” Harry felt like he heard that name from McGonagall, but he didn’t actually believe it was commonplace.

 _“Voldemort, the Dark Lord,_ ” supplied Ilun.

“ _The one who killed my parents?”_ Harry nodded, whose followers had likely killed his relatives. Were they trying to kill him too?

 _“Yes._ ”

“Oh. Then I don’t want to go there.” Would his parents have cared what house he went to? The more he learned about the wizarding world, the more he wanted to know about his own parents. 

“You seem alright.” Ron decided as if he wasn’t sure before. “A little odd, but not like evil.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied dryly. 

_“All is well, Harry,_ ” as if noticing his unease, _“but be careful, not everything is as it appears_ ,” Ilun warned.

“Do you want to play another round of chess?” Ron asked. 

Harry nodded.

In the middle of the game, the two twins from earlier appeared.

“Little Ronnikins made a friend.” One draped his head on top of Ron’s.

“You even got someone to play chess with you.” The other said, leaning down and moving one of Ron’s pieces forward. 

“Get off.” Ron shoved the twin draped across him off. 

“We just wanted to check on our wittle brother.” They sighed dramatically and in unison. Harry smiled. 

“Is he being nice? Letting you win some of the time.” The one nearest to Harry asked. “Mum’s worried that he’s addicted to chess, and poor Gin had to play with him all last year.”

“We tied the first round.” Ron protested, as one of the brothers stole the extra chocolate frog, opening it up and biting its heads off. The frog gave an odd wiggle before going still. “ And why do you have your robes on?”

“We figured-” One started, throwing his arm around the other.

“You might have forgotten-”

“And came to remind you.” They said the last in unison. It was really sort of amazing to speak in total sync like that. Harry had never seen anyone manage it to such a degree.

 _“Hm,_ ” Ilun hummed, “ _they are interesting.”_

“What’s your name? Did Ron even remember to ask?”

Harry shook his head.

“Our mother tried to install manners into him.” One draped himself half over, the exact image of mourning. “But she has failed. I shall write home at once and let her know.”

Ron promptly went pink, even his ears were flushed.

“Oh, shut up.” Ron shoved at his brothers. “I offered to share sandwiches.”

“Not the ones Mum makes. We always give those away to the wittle starving first years who forget their money. Oh, that would be you.” Two bags of sandwiches were shoved into Ron’s face. His cheeks heated up and the three descended into arguing.

The trained gave a sharp whistle.

“Well, that’s our cue.”

“We have other people to pester-

“And Lee Jordan ought to be done changing by now.” The two waved at Harry, giving him a bright grin, before putting a fist in Ron’s hair and messing it up.

“Don’t forget to change.”

“I can change in the bathroom.” Harry offered. He didn’t want the other to see his scars, didn’t want the uncomfortable questions nor the shocked look. “If you want to change here.”

“Really, that would be great, mate.” 

Harry nodded, getting up and gathering his things from his trunk, Hedwig still perched on his shoulder like a second head. Thankfully the restrooms were spacious and the doors closed completely. Harry had carefully avoided looking at himself in a mirror. He knew he had scars, he just never made a habit of ever looking at them. It would be acknowledging something he carefully didn’t want to think about.

 _“Everything alright, Bizitza?”_ Ilun asked quietly.

“ _Do you think I can get away with hiding my scars? What if the bathrooms are communal?”_ Harry asked as he swiftly changed, mostly swapping out of a t-shirt to the school’s button-down and putting the robe over it. McGonagall had helped him making a pocket for his cloak, all the while shaking her head. But having it close comfort Harry.

Ilun was quiet for some time as he changed, but finally spoke, _“It will be hard, but we can glamour them if need be._ ”

“ _Thanks. Maybe you can teach one to me when we get there.”_

 _“Of course_.”

Harry nodded as Hedwig hooted in his ear. He would be okay. Even his interaction with Ron had gone okay. Adjusting his cloak, he stepped out of the bathroom. Harry heard the whistle of the train signal coming into the station… wherever that was. The sound of steam fluttering about rose as they slowed and finally stopped. Hedwig gently nudged him and he moved with the rest of the crowd off the train.

“First years!” A deep voice shouted over the students. Harry stuck to the edge of the crowd, not entirely sure where the red head boy went, but not wanting to risk getting swarmed in the crowd. He waited till the rush of other students moved past him, headed towards the giant man.

 _“What is he?_ ” Harry asked, he had never seen a man this big.

 _“Likely half-giant,_ ” Ilun offered. He nodded and waited to see what would happen.

“All right, gather ‘round,” the man spoke, raising a lantern up, casting light out amongst the group. “First years, follow me,” he then turned and almost as one, the group followed behind the supposed half-giant. The walk wasn’t long, but instead of heading with the rest of the students, Harry noticed the first year group was being led toward the water. Small boats with a single light undulated with the water waiting.

“All right, all of you, find a boat and we shall be on our way,” their guide spoke, climbing into one himself. Harry looked around and saw a flash of red. The fiery hair told him that it was Ron and, not recognizing anyone else, he moved toward the other to share a boat. The other boy smiled as they both got in. He looked around for oars but found none.

 _“Do not worry, Bizitza, it knows where to go_ ,” he heard Ilun chuckle.

“The boats will take us to the castle. They only let first years on it.” A small fuzzy brown haired girl spoke from his side. As if Harry didn’t already know. Harry merely nodded. The girl stared at him.

“You three best get in.” The half-giant encouraged. Harry took a step back and scurried onto the boat to get away. Uncle Vernon had been a large man as well. He didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t do as he said. 

_“Harry, he will not hurt you, be calm_ ,” his guardian spoke gently.

“Yes, sir.” The girl nodded, but offered the half-giant a smile. He returned the smile with a wide grin. All three climbed in and the boats gently made their way. The fog was thick but then lights could be seen, soft yellow perfusing through the mist. He gasped as a castle came into view, its dark stone standing defiant against the night sky. It loomed over them, but Harry also got a sense of peace, the soft light farming the sharp stone. Hogwarts was truly a place of magic.

The trip from the boats to the castle was one willed with awe. They now moved up a marble staircase until they reached a set of large, wooden double doors. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. McGonagall stood in her green robes, hand on the banister watching them. Her eyes met his and he gave her a small nod in greeting, which she barely returned. In her other hand was a small scroll.

“When these doors open, you will meet your fellow students, but before you can sit down, you must be sorted into one of the four houses. Now, first years, you will form a single line and follow me.” Her voice was a command. They made their way through winding hallways with paintings that moved from frame to frame as they watched the first years progress. The great wooden door swung open, and the room was filled with students seated along four great tables. 

Before them was a great platform with a single stool and an old pointed hat in the middle. The hat began to sing.

“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty.”

Harry stared at it so shocked that he missed half of the lyrics. Though he did perk up when it mentioned Gryffindor.

“Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their Daring, nerve and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart.”

He wondered if he had those characteristics, nor did he think he belonged to Ravenclaw. He always received poor marks on exams. To do well would mean a beating, especially if he did better than Dudley. He supposed it didn’t matter here. It’s not like his relatives would care anymore how he did. Or that anyone would. Harry tried to shake off his thoughts and saw McGonagall unroll a scroll.

He had her and he had Ilun. He wasn’t alone in this. 

The song finished.

“When I call your name, step forward.” Her voice was crisp. “Abbot, Hannah.”

A small girl stepped forward from amongst their group. Her whole body was shaking as she approached the stool. As soon as she was seated, McGonagall dropped the hat on her head. 

“Hufflepuff.” The hat shouted. One of the tables started clapping wildly while the others only gave a polite applause. From there the names were called alphabetically. The whole time a sinking sensation grew, deeper and deeper in his stomach. He wondered if he was too strange to be sorted. What if he didn’t fit in into any of the houses? What if they decided he shouldn’t even be here?

“ _You’ll be fine,”_ Ilun reassured for the millionth time. 

“Granger, Hermione.” The bushy-haired girl from earlier stepped forward, an odd mix of confident and nervous. The hat took longer on her. Muttering to itself, and almost moving her head back and forth. 

“ _Is that hat talking to her?”_ Harry suddenly felt hesitant. What would the hat see his head? All the things he wanted to hide? 

“ _It is. The hat skims the surface, but if you are unguarded it can go deeper.”_ Ilun answered. _“I will help you keep what happened hidden._ ”

“Gryffindor.” The hat shouted and the table rose in applause, by far the loudest of the four. McGonagall continued calling out names. Harry barely paid attention, his own nerves bothering him. 

“Potter, Harry.”

All the small background chattered halted. The great hall went entirely quiet. All their eyes were on him. It almost felt like too much. Ron was staring at him mouth agape. Wanting to just get it over with and to be another face a table, he stepped forward. Honestly, he wanted to run more than anything else. To go back to the woods where it was quiet and safe with Ash and Hedwig, even McGonagall.

McGonagall gave him a brief smile as he approached. Fast but reassuring all the same. Harry sat down on the stool. Gazing down as everyone stared up at him. All of them were watching him, even the other teachers. He could feel the weight of their gazes. It was more attention than he ever received before. Turning back, he nodded at McGonagall as she put the hat down at least it covered his eyes.

“ _Hm. Interesting, very interesting_ ,” a voice murmured. Harry looked around until he realized it was the hat. _“Where to put you?_ ” it asked, sounding almost unsure. He could almost feel the touch of magic at the edge of his mind. Harry resisted, he didn’t want it to know, didn’t want to know all the horrible things that happened. “ _I need to_ see _to determine where you go.”_

 _“No.”_ Harry was firm. No one could know. No one but Ilun.

 _“No?”_ The hat seemed surprised. “ _I need something to make a decision on. Though no one has resisted me before. You could be great.”_ The hat moved his head towards the Slytherin table.

“ _Not there.”_ Harry shook his head. He didn’t want to go to someplace where he had to worry about enemies at every turn. 

“ _Why not? They will help you grow.”_

 _“No,”_ Harry repeated. 

“ _No.”_ The hat sounded amused. “ _Well if you are sure.”_

Harry nodded. The fear that he wouldn’t be sorted that the hat would refuse because he didn’t want to share his mind flowed through him. 

“ _Better be-_

“Gryffindor!” McGonagall removed the hat from Harry’s head after the hat made its proclamation. She gave him a small smile. 

_“A true Gryffindor indeed_ ,” Ilun congratulated and Harry found himself drifting to the Gryffindor table, slightly dazed. Oblivious to the cheering that surrounded him, he ended up sitting next to the brown-haired girl and Ron’s twin brothers.


	7. Feasts and Confrontations

Once the sorting had finished, the person who must be the headmaster, an old man with a beard that went on for miles, made a few announcements. The forbidden forest was forbidden, which Harry thought was implied in the name. They were very clever with names, these wizards. Harry swore that the old man would look straight at him occasionally. 

_“Be wary of him, Bizitza,_ ” Ilun commented. Harry nodded internally.

The third floor was also forbidden to anyone who doesn’t want to die a painful death. A laugh resounded in his head, Ilun finding the rule amusing.

Then he clapped his hand and the tables filled with food. Meat pies, vegetables drenched in garlic, little fluffy pastries, and so much more he didn’t know. It was more food than Harry had ever seen before. What McGonagall fed him looked like scraps in comparison. He stared at it stunned. He was used to going on scraps alone. 

“ _Sometimes I think I really did die in that fire,”_ Harry admitted. This world was so strange, so different that he couldn’t believe it was real.

 _“I assure you, Bizitza,_ _you did not,_ ” Ilun added, his tone serious, but gentle.

“ _I know. My parents would be here if I had.”_ Harry took one of the meat pies and took a bite. It was good. His cup filled up with pumpkin juice. The girl next to him seemed surprised by it. He wondered if she too came from the muggle world. Was her family cruel to her for being different as well?

“You’re Harry Potter, right?” The girl turned her attention to him. He felt a few of the others glanced at him as well. He merely nodded.

“And you aren’t very talkative are you?” The girl continued. 

“Oh, leave him alone,” one of the twins said, the other was poking at Ron. Harry blinked, surprised. Had someone just defended him?

“He can’t help it that he’s already fabulous.” The other winked at him. Harry gave them both a small smile. 

“You should eat some more.” Another meat pie was plopped on his plate by the twin nearest to him. 

Harry flushed, but nodded. “W-what are your names?” he tried to be conversational. He rather liked the twins. A bang of emotion suffused him for a moment from Ilun, but the other said nothing.

“Forge and Gred,” they half-sung together, giving a little bow.

“They’re Fred.” Ron pointed at the one closest to Harry, and then the one next to him “George.” 

The redhead boy had seemed shell shocked initially, but finally managed to speak with him. Maybe remembering that he had been deemed okay. 

“Is there any way to tell you two apart?” he asked bluntly, having no idea how _not_ to mess it up.

“I’m the better looking one,” Fred said and fluttered his eyelashes.

“That’s a lie. Clearly, that is me.” George reached across the table and mussed his hair.

“No. No there really isn’t.” Ron answered for them. “Though you always got a 50/50 chance of being right.” 

_“I can help you if you wish,_ ” Ilun spoke.

 _“Can you do that?_ ”

 _“Of course,_ ” his voice almost scoffing.

“ _Thank you.”_ Harry sent warmth back to Ilun. Maybe being at Hogwarts won’t be so bad. Especially if people would just treat him normally. Ron lifted up a silver tray cover.

There was a head. A pale ghostly head. Harry blinked. The ghost turned to him and, if possible, went paler. He could feel Ilun still. There were dozens of other ghost appearing overhead as well. For one moment in time, Harry almost felt like they were looking at him.

“ _Go about your business!”_ Ilun commanded. 

_“Ilun?”_

“ _T_ _hey’re ghosts.”_ Ilun started. “ _And as such are my creatures.”_

 _“Why are they interested in me?”_ Harry felt like he was asking this question a lot lately. Baffled by the wizards, by the ghosts. 

“ _I am with you. Generally, they bow before me.”_ Ilun answered, simply. 

Harry paused. He had known Ilun for years, yet, he felt like he knew nothing of the other.

 _“They bow to you? Well… I guess, I mean, I guess it makes sense since you are… death,”_ he bit out.

“ _Do not be afraid of me now, Bizitza. To you, I will always just be Ilun.”_ Ilun almost sounded worried. Harry didn’t think he would fear him, ever. Not when Ilun had been such a constant presence in his life. But the realization that he _was_ Death was still new. Like being a wizard.

 _“Never_ ,” Harry spoke, conviction coloring his voice, even if it was all new.

“I’m Nearly Headless Nick.” The ghost replied to the girl next to him.

“Nearly Headless? How can anyone be nearly headless?” She asked, unafraid of the ghost. The ghost rose up from the dinner table and titled his head.

“Like this.” The head fell to the side, hanging onto the nick by a thread of skin. The girl gasped and the twins laughed. Then he tilted his head back, popping it back into place.

“Hey, Nick!” One of the older students called his name and waved him over. The ghost smiled and floated away.

“He’s the Gryffindor’s house ghost,” Ron said, more towards Harry than to the girl at his side. Harry watched the ghosts. A part of him was vaguely aware of them like he was of Ash. Watching them float around the ceiling with the night sky and floating candles, he wanted to fly too. Maybe he’ll ask McGonagall about getting the broom later. She said he could fly however much he wanted on the weekends.

Dinner progressed with little incident after that with pleasant chatter between the twins, Ron and the girl, Hermione, she had introduced herself as.

“First years, please follow your prefects to your dorms.” McGonagall announced after dinner was over. Harry rose with the others and found himself in between Ron and Hermione. 

“So Harry Potter has arrived at Hogwarts.” A blonde hair boy stepped in front of the other students. His tie green and silver, and a snake had appeared on his badge. Harry took a step back as the prefect, Percy, another of Ron’s brothers stepped forward. He didn’t feel like talking to the blonde hair boy. Hedwig shuffled on his shoulder.

“What too good to talk to me? I’m a Malfoy.” The boy sneered, moving around the prefect like he didn’t exist, clearly agitated that Harry hadn’t said anything yet. 

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Harry finally asked, curious. 

“My family is wealthy. You should know who we are.” 

“Clearly, I do not,” Harry said.

 _“Mortals can be quite… amusing, do you not think?”_ Ilun chuckled.

“Well, what do you expect when they put you amongst muggles. I heard that their home burned down. Was that you?” Harry froze.

 _“Be calm,_ ” Ilun instructed.

“An accidental burst of magic because they wouldn’t acknowledge how cool you are?” the blond prodded.

Harry tensed. “I did no such thing,” he took a breath. “There was an accident and I barely made it out.” There, that was sort of the truth. He wouldn’t have made it out without Ilun’s help.

“That is enough.” Percy stepped in between the two. “Miss Farley, I expected that you would do a better job maintaining your first years.” 

“I was just watching the show, Weasel.” The older girl sneered. “But it’s gotten dull. Come along, first years. We dithered long enough amongst the rubble.” 

“We better do the same.” Percy sighed, “Follow me.”

“What did he mean by burned down?” Hermione whispered as she walked next to him. Harry knew the girl was only curious, but he didn’t want to talk about it. So he decided not to say anything.

 _“Are you all right, Bizitza?_ ” Ilun’s voice was gentle.

 _Was he?_ Harry simply nodded once and kept his face down as he followed the rest of the Gryffindors through the halls. The other first-years talked amongst themselves, pointing at portraits, and jumping a few of the steps as the staircase move while everyone was on it. 

“Password?” A plump woman asked from a portrait that was large enough to be a door. 

“Caput Draconis.”

“ _That’s Latin right?”_ Harry asked. He recognized the first word as 'seize' or maybe head but didn’t know the second one. 

_“It means ‘the dragon’s head,’”_ Ilun translated. “ _And yes, you are correct, it is Latin._ ”

“Make sure you remember the password,” Percy said as the portrait swung open revealing a cozy room behind it. There were red couches with gold blankets and a fireplace off to the side in the middle. 

“ _Do you think this is what my parents saw?”_ Harry asked. He was in the same house as them. Would they be proud of him? Were they amazed by Hogwarts when they first came? He knew his mother’s family were Muggles, but he suddenly realized that he knew next to nothing about his father’s. Did he have any relatives left on that side? Maybe his parents’ friends were still alive.

 _“In all likelihood, yes. Hogwarts does not change much,_ ” Ilun mused.

“Boys dormitory on the left, girls on the right.” Harry followed the other four boys up the stairs. There were five beds in the room, Hedwig flew to the one that was closest to the window, clearly picking one of them for Harry. He laughed and his lovely owl looked to him as if beaming.

The other boys, the three he didn’t know, introduced themselves as Neville, Dean, and Seamus. All three of them were looking at him with wide eyes. All Harry wanted to do was wrap himself in the invisibility cloak and hide. Ron gave him a hesitant smile and claimed the bed next to Harry’s. 

Harry found the attached bathroom, and prepared for sleeping, unsure of what else to do, utterly exhausted. Dean, Seamus, and Ron were chattering with each other when he returned, talking about football and quidditch. He quietly walked toward his bed and settled in, closing the curtains and pulling the sheets and blanket up to cover his shoulders. It was warm, but the closed-off bed felt like the cupboard underneath the stairs, yet… it felt familiar, too.

 _“Good night, Ilun._ ”

 _“Sleep well, Bizitza_.”

He watched his charge sleep for a few moments before he moved away from the bed. There were things he needed to take care of before they became problems for his Harry. When they had first arrived on the grounds, he hadn’t sensed it, but now, now he did. Why that stone was _here_ was a matter he could not leave be. Flamel had broken his promise or something happened without either of their knowledge.

Allowing one last glance at Harry’s sleeping face, he disappeared into the night. He could not leave any of this to chance. His destination showcased an older wizard sitting in a chair, the man’s gaze intent on a roaring fire in the fireplace.

“I wondered when I would be getting another visit from you,” the wizard looked to where he stood.

“If you knew I was going to come, you should have contacted me as soon as you knew,” Ilun’s voice was not kind.

“I wasn’t aware till now,” the wizard paused to take a sip of his tea. Chamomile. “Albus was my friend. I hadn’t thought to check after his visit.”

“So the fool does have it then,” he mused aloud turning away from the other and staring into the fire. “You know what this means about our deal, yes?”

“I have made my peace,” Nicolas nodded. “I know what my mistake will cost me. And I am already an old man. Longer than I perhaps should have lived. Long enough to see history repeating itself.” 

Ilun regarded the man for a moment, “Do you regret your long life?” He felt… compelled to ask. There was an unaccustomed fear in him now about his own future.

“Only after Eliza’s death. Not even the stone could save her from that wound. The years weren’t so long when she was beside me,” Nicolas' eyes darted to the portrait on the mantle. A woman waved at him. 

“Yes,” Ilun agreed, “eternity alone is a far worse fate.”

“You’ve said that before. When we first met.” Nicolas kept his gaze on the woman’s picture.

“I did,” a nod accompanied his words.

“I pitied you,” Nicolas gave a laugh, but there was no humor in it, “when I fully understood a taste of the eternity you must have spent. Is there anyone meant to walk besides Death?” 

“Only life may walk beside death,” a sad smile appeared on his face. “I have no intention of taking your life until it is time. However, I have a request.”

“I’m in your debt 600 times over. What may I do for you?” 

“Find out why the stone was taken. You say he is your friend, perhaps you can get an answer.” He had turned away from the other but stopped. Thinking of who was waiting for him, he added, “Eliza is waiting for you. Death is the end of one chapter, but the start of another. Perhaps that will give you comfort these last days.”

“I will do as you ask.” Nicolas then turned to Death, meeting his dark eyes. “Albus doesn’t believe you exist. For all that he’s devoted to your Hallows. He has one, but you already knew that.” 

A laugh left him, “Of course he does not, yet he covets what is not his to have.” He left then back to the one who was waiting for him. Harry had not moved much in sleep. The boy’s hair was tousled, fanning across the pillow, but his face was relaxed. Ilun continued to watch over him, sensing around the grounds for anything that could harm Harry, but the night was silent. The first rays of dawn broke and the sound of a thestral sang above the clouds.

Harry woke up before the others. Far too used to waking just before dawn if he had any hopes of a morning snack, and preparing breakfast. Even when he stayed with McGonagall he would wake, only to lie in bed till the scent of bacon lured him out. The other four boys were still sound of sleep. Good. Silent, a silence born out of the knowledge that to disturb it would mean pain, he shifted out of bed. Pulling the sheets back to their original position. Picking up a book, he crept down to the common room. 

It was empty, for all that a merry fire burned in the fireplace. Harry picked a small corner of the room, more used to the cold than the warmth the fire promised. He curled in on himself, holding the book close to his chest. Trying to be as small as possible in case the older students had an issue with him. Everyone had seemed friendly, but he knew better than most what could lie beneath the surface. Uncle Vernom had seemed friendly to their neighbors as well. 

Harry was reminded that all his relatives were dead once more. He only had Ilun now. That was fine. He only needed Ilun. 

_“Harry,”_ the whispered voice gently swept through his mind, _“you are thinking dark thoughts again. You have such a fire in you, do not let it go out.”_

“ _It’s the truth, Ilun, and you know it. I’m an outsider even here. They stare at me and whisper where I can’t hear.”_ Harry would rather sink into anonymity but the whole wizarding world knew his name. Placing him apart from them, he would always be apart from them. He wasn’t sure if he even belonged here. 

_“Bizitza, there is good in this world. I wish for you to see it and there are those who would be your family, would be your friends if you would let them.”_

_“Who would wish to be friends with a freak?”_ Harry asked, not expecting an answer. He was well aware of what he was. 

_“I am not one to tell one’s future_ ,” Ilun answered vaguely, a hint of a smile in his voice.

A girl moved down the stairs, a book in her hand as well. For all that she tried to be quiet, the stairs creaked and even her breathing sounded loud to him. Harry was half tempted to try to flee, but there was nowhere he could go that he would be alone. The other boys might be awake by now. So he stayed, watching her more than looking at the book in his lap.

She settled down by the fire, completely oblivious to his presence. Her book was opened with an almost gleeful anticipation. 

“ _You should talk to her,”_ Ilun nudged. 

“ _No.”_ Harry shook his head, instead going back to his book, which was placed in such a way that he could monitor the girl for any movement. Ilun was suspiciously silent for a moment. The way he got when he wanted to ‘check on things.’

Nearly Headless Nick then appeared, “Good morning, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter,” he floated through the common room.

“ _This is your doing!”_ Harry snapped at Ilun. 

_“Of course, now talk to the girl._ ”

Hermione gave a visible start, looking at Nearly Headless Nick, then glancing around for the second person. 

“Harry! I didn’t see you there. Do you like to read as well?” she asked noticing the book in his lap. “I’ve already read all the books, but I wanted to look through them before class again. What’s your favorite? Is there a class you are looking forward to? I’m quite excited about potion, because it’s a bit like chemistry and cooking.” 

Harry stared at the girl. And blinked. She had said all that in a single breath. 

“ _Ilun, she talks too much. What do I even say?”_

“ _You_ are _reading a book, are you not? Start there.”_

Harry merely lifted the book up, showing it to her. The glossy cover of _The Secrets of Thestrals_ shined in the firelight.

 _“Use your words, Harry,”_ admonished Ilun.

“Thestrals?” The girl stood up and approached him. Harry scooted closer to the wall. “I’ve never heard of that. What is it?” She sat beside him and had a hand open in expectation. Harry just looked at it. Not saying anything.

“Can I please see it? I’m really very curious. I know next to nothing about magical creatures. It is a magical creature, right? That’s what the image of on the cover? Oh, I should have picked up more books when I was in Diagon Alley. I told my mother I didn’t have nearly enough, but she said we were on a budget.” She paused as if waiting for Harry to reply. He said nothing. “So,” she continued after a moment, “I wasn’t able to pick up any books about magical creatures. And I don’t know very many because my parents are...muggles? I guess that was the for it. Non-magical anyway. But I always knew I was different.”

_“Harry, please talk to the poor girl. It will do you both well, you will get better with people and she will learn something of use while in this castle passing as a school.”_

“ _She seems to be doing a good job all on her own. I don’t really need to speak, do I?”_

 _“Will you not do this for me?”_ Ilun asked.

Harry grimaced. Ilun so rarely ask for Harry to do something and he hated to disappoint his guardian. 

“They are a magical creature,” he finally confirmed quietly. After he cleared his throat, he continued, “Thestrals are said to be linked to death and can only be seen by those who have seen someone die.”

“I don’t think I would be able to see one. I’ve never seen anything die.” She sounded a little disappointed. “Not that I would want to.” She added quickly, almost worried about what Harry would think. They were both quiet for a moment. Long enough that Harry was worried he was supposed to be speaking again but wasn’t sure what to say. 

“Have you seen one?” She half asked in a whisper. “Is that why you have the book?” Harry nodded slowly, but didn’t want to say anything else about his parents. 

“Oh, perhaps I shouldn’t have asked. Of course you did. What are they like?” the girl asked.

Harry blinked and then looked at the ceiling for a moment remembering Ash. “They look like horses, but instead of hair, their skin feels like leather. They’re bony, but gentle creatures, though they prefer meat to fruits and vegetables.” He surprised himself with how much he said and felt a pleased reaction from Ilun, which caused a small smile to spread across his face.

“Oh. That’s interesting. I’ve mostly been reading _Hogwarts a History_ . This is all so very exciting. I’m trying to become as familiar as I can with the place.” She lowered her voice, as if telling a secret. “I still feel a bit like an outsider, given that I’m a muggle born.” Harry blinked. _She felt like an outsider, too?_

“I-” he started, “I feel like that a bit, too. Um… I think breakfast is going to be served soon, do… do you want to get food together?”

“Of course,” she leaped to her feet, tucking her book into the bag that was at her shoulder. “Let me go up and get my robes. You should too! I think I remember the way. I was paying attention to which paintings we passed as we went up the stairs yesterday.” He nodded and quietly went up the stairs to get his books and robes. When he came back down, the girl, Hermoine, was waiting by the main door. She smiled at him when she saw him and reached for him when he was only a foot or so away. Instinct flared and he flinched back, which caused Hermoine’s hand to remain in the air. For one extended moment, neither said anything. She slowly lowered her hand, but gave him a tentative smile.

“We should go before there’s nowhere to sit.”

“I don’t think anyone else is up yet,” Harry added, pointedly looking around the common room, which was as empty as it had been an hour ago. They went out of the portrait and none of the stairs were arranged the way they were the night before.

“ _Which way?”_ Harry asked. Ilun always knew where to go. 

_“Go left down the stairs,_ ” he answered knowingly. Harry nodded, and started off, expecting Hermione to follow.

“Um, Harry, I think it’s the other way.” The girl pointed to the staircase on the right.

“It isn’t.” Harry proceeded down the stairway on the left. If she wanted to go right, she could. He heard her follow after him, once again footsteps all too loud on the stairs. 

_“Now, take the second stairs on the right. The staircases move, so be careful, Bizitza._ ”

Harry nodded, moving on the stairs. Hermione barely made it before the top of it started to shift, but the bottom remained the same, so he kept walking. 

“ _Take the hall on your right and continue down until you reach the end. Turn left. You will be able to smell the food soon,_ ” Ilun continued to silently instruct Harry. He did as instructed, Hermoine rushing to walk by his side, but far enough away that they wouldn’t accidentally touch. Harry hoped the great hall would be mostly empty. Maybe he could sit close to the doors.

The sound of clanking metal and the smell of breakfast fare made their way down the hall. In front of them, the great hall stood in all its glory, the tables laden with food, but with few people to partake in the bounty.

“We made it,” Hermoine spoke aloud to herself, awe and surprise coloring her voice. “How did you know the way?”

Harry looked back at her, having already started walking towards the end of the Gryffindor table. “I asked for directions.” 

“Yesterday? That was smart. I should have asked the older students as well.” Hermione nodded, and sat down at the end next to him. Though she cast a longing glance at the other end of the table. The one that would put her closer to the teachers. McGonagall was already seated at the head table. She gave a curt nod towards Hermione and Harry as they sat. 

There were a few other students from the other houses seated. But the Gryffindor table was mostly empty. Harry sat down quietly, nodded to a couple of ghosts who greeted him silently as they floated by. Both started to fill their plates and ate their breakfast in silence. As the morning drew closer to the start of classes, more and more students filled the hall. Several times, Harry would hear them talking and laughing only to dissolve into whispers and stares as they walked passed where he and Hermoine sat. A few times he caught “Dursleys” and “murderer” directly at him and he tensed up, shoulders bowing in.

“Don’t listen to them, Harry,” Hermoine spoke from his left. “They don’t know what they’re saying.”

 _“I agree, Bizitza. Their deaths were not your fault. If anyone would know, it would be the one who rules over death,_ ” Ilun’s soothing presence washed over him. His shoulders relaxed slightly, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up at any of the new students coming into the hall.

Not having much more of an appetite, he stood, Hermoine following, and both Gryffindors made their way to their first class. It was some weird class called Xylomancy… which made no sense to Harry.

 _“It is a branch of divination,_ ” supplied Ilun.

“ _What’s divination?_ ” Harry couldn’t help but ask. All these topics were foreign to him, but he could ask Ilun without fear.

 _“Many would say it is the practice of knowing the future or gaining such knowledge through magical means,”_ the other’s voice reminding him of a teacher.

The class passed without too much issue. He tried to take as many notes as he could, often asking Ilun questions, as he was afraid to openly voice any to the professor. When the bell rang, he packed up his belongings and walked behind the other students on the way out. With some careful navigating, he made his way to his second class of the day, potions. This one he felt he could get the gist of what it would be about. It reminded him of chemistry and cooking. Perhaps this class wouldn’t be too bad.

A man stood at the front of the class as they all filed into the room. He wore all black robes covering from his neck down to his shoes, his pale hand resting on the desk, eyes watching them. Those eyes narrowed onto him and he shrank back, trying to make himself as small as possible. Across the way, he saw Hermoine sitting up front with an open seat to her left. Feeling out of place and seeing no better seat, he took it.

“I’ll have no foolishness in this class. Be seated at once and pull out your books. We will go over the intricacies of the most complicated art of them all. Potions. A single mistake can doom you for life.” His voice was dark as he stared down all the students, but his eyes always returned to Harry. Harry frantically wrote down his notes, making careful attention about being careful. Maybe this wouldn’t be the easiest class.

“Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” He blanched. What? How would he know such a thing? Was this supposed to be common knowledge to wizarding children?

_“Ilun, what is he talking about?”_

A laugh was heard in his mind, _“It is called ‘Draught of Living Death’ for it makes the one who drinks it go into such a deep slumber they appear dead.”_

“The D-draught of Living Death, sir,” Harry answered just above a whisper.

 _“It is made from the powdered root of asphodel which is added to an infusion of wormwood,”_ Ilun paused in his explanation. “ _Interesting question coming from him.”_

The man blinked. A brief frown filtered across his face before he merely nodded.

“I expect everyone to have read ahead for this class. To come in unprepared is to court Death.”

  
  



	8. Snitches and Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for all the kudos and comments! The next chapter is up! I also wanted to take this opportunity to put out a word for a new fic my partner and I are writing inspired by Star Trek called A Galaxy of Exploration. Please go check it out and as always rate and review!  
> \- BattleScarredKitsune

Somehow Harry made it through the week. 

From classes with screaming planets, of which Ilun had calmly pointed out what they were to have to the whispers that followed him wherever he went. Harry still felt like he didn’t quite fit. Closer than before, but still, even among those with magic. Harry found himself an outsider.

“Harry!” Two voices spoke in perfect unison, standing right in front of him in the common room. Where he and Hermione were working on their homework, for lack of anything else to do. 

“What are you doing? 

“You’ll be late if you don’t head down now.”

“What?” Harry stared at the twins blankly.

“Quidditch!” The two spoke in unison. “We’re under orders from the lioness herself to bring you down to the field.”

“What?”

“Up you go.” The twin reached for him sync and helped him out of the chair. Each grabbed one of his wrists and started to tug him out of the common room, through the winding staircases. Harry wanted to break free, his mind flashing back to when his uncle or aunt grabbed him in a similar manner. 

“Where are we going?” Harry finally managed to ask, as they made their way outside.

“Practice fields.”

“You’re our one last hope,” George said dramatically.

“Without you, Oliver really will fall into a pit of despair.”

Harry had no idea who Oliver was, nor what the two were talking about. 

“McGonagall said you might make a decent seeker.”

“Which is high praise coming from her.” 

_ “You should find this enjoyable, _ ” Ilun chuckled almost knowingly.  _ “I shall enjoy watching you fly, Bizitza. _ ”

“Who’s Oliver?” Harry directed to the twins. “ _ Is this that game with the broom that I played during the summer?”  _

_ “Yes, _ ” Illun stated simply, giving nothing else away.

Harry barrel rolled and caught the snitch. Then he let it go, zooming after it once more. When he was up in the air like this he felt free. It was just him, the sky, and a flicker of gold. He couldn’t help but smile as he pulled the broom up, chasing after the little golden ball. 

After the third time, he let it escape. He saw it flicker near one of the twins' heads before it shot down once more. Just above the ground. 

Grinning, he pointed the broom into a steep dive. Enjoying the speed as he raced down. At the last moment, he grabbed the snitch. His own feet touching the ground as he held it up to the onlookers.

_ “You sometimes scare even me, _ ” Ilun’s deadpanned voice soothed over his mind.

“ _ This is  _ fun _.”  _ Harry cheered, not concerned in the slightest.

“Marry me.” The captain, Oliver Wood, reached out and grabbed both of his hands, looking at him intently.

Surely, he hadn’t heard him, right?

“He’s a little young for that Ollie,” one of the twins slung an arm over his shoulder, while the other pulled Oliver back. 

“I thought all was lost. That this year the Slytherins would take the cup. But we’ve found our seeker.” The older boy grinned at Harry, then ruffled his hair. “I’m counting on you. You do want to be on the team right?” 

“You’ll break Wood’s heart if you said no.” George nodded, face solemn.

“Shatter it to a million pieces. He’ll never recover.”

“Yes.” Harry nodded. He always wanted to fly. And he’s never been on a team before. Not once, generally he sat out during physical education. No one wanted to get near him.

_ “As if you would ever say no, _ ” a chuckle wrapped itself around him.

“Aww. Look at that Oliver, he accepts your proposal.” 

“I hear wedding bells.” There was a sort of… displeased feeling from Ilun before it went away. 

“What?” Harry looked between the two. “I meant to the team. Not to anything else.”

“Ignore them, Harry.” One of the girls, Katie, shook her head. “They just like to tease Oliver. They’ll eventually stop if you don’t respond.”

Oliver’s face was red and he started to sputter a little, as the twins crept on either side of him, going on about a wedding. For however weird the pair was, Harry did think they were amusing. 

“It’ll be great to have you on the team.” Angelica another of the chasers approached Harry, pointedly stepping in between him and the boys. “We’ll finally have a shot of winning.”

“Who was the seeker before me?” Harry asked, wondering why they needed a new one.

“Charlie Weasley. He just graduated, went off to Romania to study dragons.”

“Dragons.” Harry looked between the two. “ _ Really, dragons, Ilun. Are there any nearby? I want to meet one.” _

_ “They live in the mountains and other wide spaces. We are unlikely to see one here _ ,” the other informed.

“ _ Oh.”  _ Harry looked down, disappointed. “ _ It would be fun to ride one.” _

After riding a thestral, Harry couldn’t help but feel a sort of kinship with flying animals. Especially the magical ones.

“ _ Many would not let you that close, young one _ .”

“ _ Ash doesn’t have a problem with me.”  _ Harry pouted. But, then again, Ash was one of Death’s creatures. 

“Mr. Potter,” Harry looked up at the sound of Professor McGonagall’s voice. “Please come with me.” Startled, he nodded and followed behind the headmistress, head bowed slightly, shoulders curved inwards.

_ “It is all right, Bizitza, _ ” Ilun’s soft voice whispered in his mind.  _ “This is nothing to fear. She has a surprise.” _

_ “A surprise?” _ Harry followed McGonagall out of the great hall, down past the doors and out toward a long winding path leading down to the Forbidden Forest. The wind whistled around them breaking the silence. A small hut came into view, wisps of smoke spiraling up into the air.

The path split and they continued left, bringing them to the small, stone hut. Harry stood back and to the side as McGonagall knocked on the door. A few moments later and the broad wood creaked open.

“Professor McGonagall!” a giant man, the same one from the boats, shouted. “I wasn’t expecting ye!” After a second he spotted Harry. “And Harry! What brings ye both?”

“Hagrid,” McGonagall stole away the man’s attention, “Mr. Potter has need to go into the Forbidden Forest and has permission to do so provided he is accompanied.” Hagrid nodded, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Aye,” the giant of a man cast a glance down at Harry before his gaze returned to the headmistress. “I can help him, but what business does a first year have in the forest?”

“Mr. Potter has a thestral staying on the grounds and is allowed to tend to him. After all, he would do well to take care of his familiar,” the headmistress gave Harry a quick, but warm, smile.

“A thestral?” Hagrid whispered then hummed. “Well, come in while I grab a few things and we can head out.” The man stepped aside, opening the door wider and both Harry and McGonagall stepped inside. A wave of warmth surrounded them as they entered and the smell of something cooking on the fire wafted around Harry. Having been so afraid earlier, he had not taken notice of what the man was wearing but now saw a frilly apron tied around his waist, an almost comical contrast to his disheveled clothes.

“I will be taking my leave, Hagrid,” McGonagall’s voice broke through Harry’s musings and shock and fear raced through him. He didn’t want to be left with Hagrid. The man was huge and he was afraid of what would happen should he be alone.

_ “The half-giant will not harm you, Harry, _ ” a soothing feeling wrapped around his mind as Ilun spoke.

_ “O-okay, _ ” he stammered and gave a short, shy nod.

“Of course, professor,” Hagrid’s voice broke through their conversation and all the males watched the headmistress leave. “Well then, Harry,” Hagrid turned back to him, a bright, friendly smile on his dirty face, “why don’t we get going while we still have the light?” Harry gave another small nod and followed the man out, but noticed the other grab a crossbow that had been hanging next to the door. Catching where his gaze had gone, the groundskeeper was quick to assure him that it was simply a precaution, nothing more. Still, as they walked toward the dense expanse of trees, Harry couldn’t help the chill that traveled up his spine.

Ash trotted up to him when they found the thestral playing with the heard on the grounds and Hagrid stepped away, but within line of sight of Harry. A grin split across Harry’s face as the thestral practically danced on his hooves, showing its appreciation of the visit. The leathery wings upon Ash’s back flapped in excitement and Harry quickly ran up to the bony horse and threw his arms around the creature. Ash bowed his head as if returning the hug and then the two parted. 

After their reunion, Ash bowed down again as he had at the zoo, but this time Harry didn’t hesitate. Without even a thought, Harry clambered onto the thestral’s back and laughed as one of Death’s creatures pranced around the trees. The rest of the day until just before dinner was spent playing with Ash and even getting close to some of the other thestral’s, all the while two watchful guardians keeping him safe.

“So remember how you were interested in dragons?” Fred slung an arm around George. They were both standing in front of the fireplace. 

“You found one?” Harry asked, closing his book. Everyone else had already headed to bed, but he had headed back down.

“Hagrid had one in his  _ hut, _ ” George snorted. “Our older brother Charlie is coming to pick him up. Named it Norbert and all. We thought you would most definitely like to come. Afterall Charlie was a seeker as well.”

“Yes.” Harry leaped up. “What type of dragon? I’ve been reading about a few like the Welsh Green.” 

“A  Norwegian Ridgeback.” 

“Those have venomous fangs and black spines.” Harry nodded. “Where is it? I want to see.”

“Follow us.” The two turned in sync, but Fred sent Harry a grin. 

“Wait, I’m coming too.” Hermione slunk off from her step by the stairs, her robes in disarray as she hurried to adjust them. “The two of you will just lead him astray.” 

“It’s like you don’t trust us.” Fred slowly reached out for Harry’s hand. Giving him a wink and time to withdraw. 

“We’re hurt, Granger, wounded by your words.” George reached out for the other hand.

“Still. You’ll get him mixed up in your shenanigans and he’ll wind up expelled.” Hermione scowled. 

“Well, better keep up.” The two tugged on Harry’s wrists, as they raced out of the common room, the two laughing as Hermione sputtered at the three of them. 

“Really a dragon? I didn’t think they were allowed on Hogwarts.” Harry moved his hands away from the twins’ grasp, but kept an easy pace with the taller students. 

“ _ That’s because they are not,”  _ Ilun added. “ _ How did Hagrid even get a dragon?”  _

“That is why Charlie is here. And why we are moving it in the middle of the night. He’s going to smuggle it off the grounds.” 

“So you are running a dragon smuggling operation.” Hermione accused trailing behind them. 

“Why, what an excellent idea!”

“I wonder if we could make little dragon statues.” George mused. 

“Maybe they could breathe fire.” 

“When is your brother getting here?” Harry asked, already used to the twins conspiring with each other in whispers. They would get more and more ridiculous with time. 

“Midnight.” 

“It’s a pity we haven’t figured out how to get that map to work yet,” George muttered, more for Fred’s ears then Harry’s, but he still caught it. He would ask the twins about some map later. He didn’t see why they needed one. 

“Regardless, we’re sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest, right by Hagrid’s Hut. Charlie used to sneak around there all the time when he was in school, for all that Mum thought he was perfect. Bill told us.”

“Isn’t the Forbidden Forest, well Forbidden?” Hermione looked between the twins speculatively.

“That’s the fun of it.” Fred winked at her, as they made their way out of the building, taking a side set of stairs after peeking around the corner.

“But you should stay out of it until you’re older.” George voiced, looking between Hermione and Harry. 

“ _ I’ll be fine as long as I’m with you. _ ” Harry addressed to Ilun. 

_ “I will always keep you safe.”  _ He wanted to explore the forest. Additionally, Ash was already residing there, so he wasn’t too concerned. Harry half preferred being in the woods then being in the castle all day. It made him realize that he was truly free of the Dursleys. 

Free forever.

They were gone.

The thought, the small concern that he held, came back. Where was he going after this? School wasn’t going to be in session forever. Maybe he’ll go back to stay with McGonagall. No one had really said anything to him yet. 

“Lumos,” Fred whispered as they passed Hagrid’s hut. The windows inside were dark. They entered the woods. Harry almost felt that there was an extra set of eyes on them. Something lurking in the dark. 

“ _ Ilun? Do you sense that?” _

_ “Yes, be on alert-” _

“Boys!” Hagrid boomed, holding a torch, while Norbert was secured on a leash on his other side. Almost the same size as Fang, the great hunting dog that was cowering on Hagrid’s other side. 

Three figures shot down on brooms into the clearing. One of them made a speculator dive, before jumping off his broom in one seamless movement as graceful as a bird catching its prey. Harry wondered if he could pull off the stunt. 

_ “Please do not try, _ ” Ilun’s voice sounded almost pained and Harry imagined his invisible friend burying his head in his hands or massaging his head.

“Charlie.” Both twins shouted, before launching themselves at the other boy, almost knocking him down in a hug. 

“Fred. George.” Charlie ruffled both of their heads as they separated.

“Hagrid, Good to see you.” Charlie grinned at the other and gave him a handshake then a hug. “We’ll take good care of Norbert.” 

Charlie bent down to be leveled with the dragon, movements slow, then patted it on the head. His hands clearly gloved in black leather that looked almost scaled. The other two came forward to the dragon as well, keeping their movements slow as they moved their wands. 

“It’ll take a moment to set up the harness. If you want to talk to your brothers.” One of them said, manner cheerful. 

“Thanks.” Charlie nodded, before approaching the four students. 

“You must be Harry. The twins told me that you replaced me as a seeker.” The older Weasley smiled at Harry. He had that same spark of mischief that the twins had in his eye. And Harry couldn’t help but notice that he also had some muscles along with a few scattering of scars. Burn marks, scratches, and a few others that couldn’t be as easily identified. He didn’t try to hide them at all. 

Harry never wanted anyone else to see the ones he had. They didn’t seem to bother Charlie at all. 

“Yes.” He stated simply, feeling oddly flustered by the attention. His cheeks heated. “You study dragons, right?” 

“Yep. You want to pet Norbert.” Charle grinned at Harry, slowly moving to ruffle his hair as well. “Here come with me and I’ll help.” 

Harry nodded and followed the older boy. 

“They liked to be scratched above their eye ridges. It’s a hard spot for them to get to normally.” Charlie slowly moved Harry’s hand to place above Norbert’s eye. The texture was smooth, but Harry couldn’t help but flush. Worse of all was he didn’t even know why the older boy had him so flustered. But then again, he was petting a  _ dragon _ , which was amazing. 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem.” Then he stood. 

“Alright,” he addressed the other wizards and sole witch. “Ready for a trip to Romania with a brief detoured at the Welsh Dragon Refuge?”

“Aye, aye. Captain.” One of the girls spoke, as she tied Norbert’s harness to her broom.

“Not a Captain,” Charlie muttered. Then he ruffled the twins’ hair again, despite their protest, and hopped on his own broom. Giving a goodbye and one wave to Harry.

Harry waved until he couldn’t see the four riders and the dragon. Still stuck in admiration for the other. Charlie had just waltzed right in, brought in his smuggling crew, and left.

“So what did you think?” Fred and George were in Harry’s face. Both equally grinning, with an expression that clearly showed they were up to something. 

“He’s really cool,” Harry said honestly, still gazing up into the sky. A heavy sigh was heard from Ilun and Harry got the distinct feeling he was unhappy with something.

Ilun gazed at the sleeping boy, wondering at his own reaction. He knew it would be good for Harry to make new friends, to understand that the entirety of the world was not a dark place, but the way Harry reacted to the older Weasley… 

A sigh escaped him in a silent rush and he found himself away from Gryffindor Tower. The empty halls of the castle held none of his attention as he made his way to the only other occupant that could speak with him. A small sitting room with a roaring fire blazed as he entered the other’s quarters.

“ _ I am not intruding, I hope _ ,” he spoke to the woman slowly drinking her tea.

The tea sloshed from the cup, as McGonagall set it down. “Is something the matter with Harry?” 

“ _ He is safe _ ,” he answered, cursing his own indecision.

“Then is there something I can help you with? I know coming here hasn’t been the easiest on him.” McGonagall looked down at her tea. Both knew she was referring to the looks that Harry received from the other students.

_ “He is learning to look for kinship beyond the safety I give him _ ,” Ilun found himself answering. 

“Children are supposed to make friends.” McGonagall sighed. “I haven’t asked what the conditions were like when he was living with his relatives, nor what you did to protect him. But at least, he should be safe.” 

_ “I fear he will be out of my reach. _ ”

“Did something happen? I know you say he is safe, but if he was in a position of danger, you would tell me?” 

_ “He is safe and if I feared for his well being, I would tell you, but… I do not understand why I am here,” _ Death’s voice was laced in frustration.

“Tell me what happened and perhaps I can help you.” McGonagall’s voice was calm, as she sipped her tea once more. He looked at the woman, though she couldn’t see him and then regaled her of tonight’s adventure, doing his best to keep down any of his own feelings on the matter.

“That sounds just like Charlie Weasley.” McGonagall closed her eyes and leaned back. “Did any of the others bother you, or was it just the second Weasley child?” 

_ “Just the boy and Harry’s reaction to him.” _

“It isn’t odd for Harry to find someone to look up to. Despite his sneaking off into the Forbidden Forest as a student, Charlie is a good role model.”

_ “... I do not mind if he looks up to the boy, but Harry is  _ mine.”

McGonagall paused. Carefully, she placed the tea back in the saucer, the cup nearly empty. Then she glanced in his general direction, for all that he couldn’t be seen. 

After a brief silence, she finally spoke.

“Harry as a kid. Most of the students developed crushes. Heaven knows I cannot count the amount of a teenage drama, I’ve been privy too over the years. Give him time to grow up.” 

_ “So I am to stand by? Why do I even feel this way? It is not like I have been against Harry befriending others.” _

“It may be best to give yourself time as well. Ask what about Harry’s interactions between certain people bothers you? Is it because they pose a threat to him or not?” McGonagall’s tone had a practiced note to it as if she had given this speech before. 

There was a long pause and then,  _ “I will think on your words. Good night, Minerva.” _

“Wait.” McGonagall straightened some of the parchment on her desk.

_ “Yes?” _

“We are in the midst of considering where Harry will go for the summer. Albus is dead set on him going to the orphanage, but he needs a home. However, the only person with any legal claim of guardianship is Sirius Black, who currently resides in Azkaban.”

_ “How does he have a claim?” _

“James and Lily had his name written in their will to care for Harry, along with the fact that he is his godfather. But he betrayed them.” 

_ “Not everything is as it seems. As you have said, death has sway on all. _ ”

McGonagall paused and stared at the wall across from her. Then very quietly, she spoke. “Are you saying he is innocent?”

_ “Perhaps. Are there any others who could look after him? I will not have him subjected to an orphanage or anyone who dares use him.” _

“I would, but I have been greatly dissuaded by Albus not to.” McGonagall let a long sigh, be speaking of frustration.

_ “Then we shall have to find a place for him, now won’t we.”  _

“Remus Lupin offered to take him in when he was a baby. But rescinded it, after some discussion. On account of worrying about his lycanthrope. He’s not safe for a child to be around.”

_ “Hmm… perhaps it still is an option.” _

“I could watch over him on full moons.” McGonagall mused. 

_ “That may be the safest option. Please reach out to Mr. Lupin and see if he is willing to take Harry. Good night.”  _ He left, once again finding himself looking down at the sleeping face for which he longed.


	9. Mirror of Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lily: So maybe I added a Nightmare scene...  
> Kitsune: Yes, you did, hence the warning. Sometimes you scare even me, Lily.  
> Lily: But Nightmares are fun!!!!   
> Kitsune: … Harry would not agree.   
> *Harry cowering in the corner. Ilun glaring at Lily*  
> Lily: Yeah. I totally deserve that. But in all seriousness, it is suggestive of non-con without actually going there.  
> Kitsune: That’s one reason it’s M, Lily…   
> Lily: *smiles* I’m not that evil. (Is that evil, full of lies)

The weeks turned into months as Harry sought to learn as much as he could about the magical world he found himself in, but he was still afraid. The twins had taken it upon themselves to be his protectors, while Hermoine became his best friend, the girl never leaving his side. Finally, with the leaves changing and the winds turning bitter, All Hallows’ Eve was upon them and the Great Hall decked out to celebrate.

It was strange to see all the color and apparent mirth in the school. This day had been nothing but a nightmare for him in the past. The day his parents died and a constant reminder of what he lost, along with the terror the Dursleys had inflicted upon him.  _ Don’t think about them... _

“Harry?” a soft voice broke him from his darker thoughts. Hermoine looked at him for a moment and then gave a gentle smile. “Why don’t you get something to eat?”

Harry gave a visible start, flinching back from Hermoine, before shaking his head. He wasn’t allowed to eat on this day. Despite eating at the Great Hall for several weeks now, he still felt uncomfortable, worried about being caught. Worried it will all vanish into smoke, and he would be left once more cowering under the cupboard, bruises blossoming against his skin. 

_ “Harry, they cannot hurt you any longer.” _

_ “They’re dead.”  _ For all the terror they inflicted on him. Harry hadn’t wanted them dead. He only ever wanted their affection, was half desperate for it. 

_ “Yes,”  _ Ilun stated gently. “ _ Eat and enjoy the feast with your friends.” _

“Here you go, Harry.” Fred passed him a plate. It wasn’t fully loaded, but there was a little bit of everything. 

“You gotta try the pumpkin pastries. They’re the best.” George added, sitting down across from him and next to Fred. 

“Thank you.” Harry took the plate and stared at the food. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel hungry. Instead, he grabbed a bread roll and munched on it. His stomach turning at the thought of all the candy and other desserts that covered the tables. 

He tried to make his way through the meal, mostly listening to the twins’ and Hermione’s idle chatter. The food barely tasted like anything and he could feel the others’ stares as he continued to pick at his food. Ilun’s presence was calming, but still did little against the roiling of his stomach when the doors burst open to the great hall.

“Troll! Troll in the dungeon!” Professor Quirrell shouted and then collapsed in between the dining tables, muttering, “I thought you ought to know.” 

The great hall fell into a cacophony of noise, students standing up, screaming. It was too much. Harry would rather deal with a troll then the noise.

The headmaster stood, raising his hands. “Quiet,” the command barely above his normal volume, but the room quieted almost instantly. “Prefects, take your students to their houses. Professors come with me.”

Harry moved to follow Percy and the other Gryffiindors, but made sure to stay towards the back, unwilling to deal with the mob of other students. In the midst of the rush of students, he was separated from both Hermoine and the twins.

“Quick, Potter, come with me.” Quirrell waved Harry over. Harry stood where he was surprised at how quickly the great hall had become deserted. 

“ _ Harry, do not trust him. He is not what he appears to be, _ ” Ilun’s voice carried over his teacher’s.

Harry shook his head, making his way to the doors. He could get to the tower by himself.

“Now, Potter.” Quirrell took quick steps and placed a hand at the juxtaposition of Harry’s neck and shoulder. “I’m concerned the troll was sent by dark wizards that might be after you.”

Quirrell placed more pressure, squeezing down, as he tugged Harry closer. Panic washed through him in waves. Although he knew his uncle wasn’t here, his mind flashed back to all those times the man had gripped him in this manner. All the times he was pulled away only to be slammed into the cupboard or worse. The world was starting to spin and the air wasn’t getting into his lungs properly, his lips trembling and going numb.

“ _ Harry! _ ” The voice sounded as if from a great distance or underwater.  _ What did it want? I need to get away. I didn’t want to go into the cupboard again, I hadn’t done anything wrong! _ “ _ Harry, you need to get away, _ ” the voice continued to speak to him. 

Before he knew what was happening, he was running down the stone corridor, heart pounding on his chest. He continued to run, not hearing anything until he turned the corner and stopped abruptly. Standing before him was a greyish-brown skinned behemoth of a creature. It was turned away from him, but the stench wafted toward him and made him gag, memories of soiled clothes and dank wood going through his mind. 

“ _ The cloak! Bizitza, put the cloak on.”  _ The words sounded garbled, hard to hear over the pounding in his ears. But one word was repeated.

A large hand came swooping down toward him. Half on instinct from dodging Dudley over all these years, Harry rolled out of the way. A shimmer of fabric dropped from his pocket. Harry reached out to grab it.

“ _ The cloak.” _

The cloak rippled as if an unseen hand grabbed it, draping it over himself. The troll took a step back, a great glob of snot landed a foot away. The scent caused a small taste of bile to come up his throat. 

“ _ Run.” _

Harry ran. 

The corridor twisted in on itself, and the castle seemed darker, as Harry raced through portions of it he had never been before, only vaguely aware that he was in Hogwarts, and not in Number Four Privet Drive, trying desperately to get to the cupboard, but knowing that it wasn’t safe. That there was no place that was safe. Uncle Vernon always found him.

He eventually found himself in a circular room with stairs leading down to a strangely shaped object in the middle of the floor. Too afraid to do anything, he ran toward the other end of the room, keeping a wide berth between him and the grey fabric, and hid in a corner curled up with his knees to his chest, terror screaming through him.

A hand grasped his ankle, pulling him through flames. Harry tried to turn away, shifting from his back to his stomach and reached out. The fire turned from red to green, in the tongues of flame, the image of a woman formed, screaming “Not Harry!” __

Harry was only racked along the coals of the fire. 

Then the image in the flames turned, surrounding him, and from them chains moved like a snake, winding around his arms, holding him down. His stomach burned against the coals. And he could hear the distant sound of Uncle Vernon's voice yelling  _ boy _ . 

The flames rose to cover him, blanketing him as he rolled over onto his back. He couldn’t move.

Uncle Vernon took form, half of his appearance burnt and blackened, one eye missing. The other half was the picture of anger, cheeks flush, and a cruel, vicious grin forming on his face. 

“Look what you've done to me, boy!” A skeletal hand, white with pieces of charred flesh on it, gestured to his appearance.

“It wasn’t me.” Harry sobbed. He never wanted to kill the Dursleys. Never.

“Your revenge at last. Don’t lie to me boy. This was done by your magic. Your Disease. We should have put you down like a runt when we got you. You have killed us all.”

“I didn’t know.” Tears evaporated from his face, as the flames danced higher. It was his fault. He remembered the voices of those who were searching for him.

“Now it’s time for you to pay.” Then Vernon picked Harry up and shifted him on his stomach again. Harry couldn’t move. The chains wrapped tighter around him and he could feel Vernon’s hands reach down and dig into his hips. The skeletal hand sharpened to claws, rendering into his stink and pain shot up. 

Then both hands grabbed the waistband of his pants, pulling down in one swift movement. He glanced forward, the image of the woman was reaching out for him, screaming his name. Begging for him to be spared.

The weight of Vernon’s body laid against his back. Hand’s covering the chains that were at his wrist. His face was right next to his ear, and Harry could feel something against his back.

“ _ Remember boy. This is what you deserve. All that you are good for.”  _

Harry woke scrambling back to the stone wall, breathing erratic and fast. It had seemed so real, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.

“ _ Harry _ ,” Ilun’s voice soothed, “ _ He cannot hurt you anymore _ .”

Harry just sobbed, desperately wanting a light in the darkened room. Afraid of the shadows dancing around him, of the sound of heavy footsteps echoing against the floor. Vernon was coming for him.

He wasn’t safe.

Harry shook, rocking in on himself. 

“ _ Bizitza, please, calm yourself. Take the cloak and walk toward the middle of the room _ .” Still shaking, Harry kept the cloak wrapped around him and shuffled toward the strange object, each step down making him feel more exposed. As he reached for the cloth, hand still trembling, a soft gust brushed his hand and the grey fabric drifted to the floor. In front of him stood a mirror, but as he looked, he saw two other people standing to his right and left, a man and the woman from his dream. But in color this time, not tinted by the green fire. She was smiling at him. Startled he jolted around, but only met empty space. Turning back, he regarded them quietly, heart steadily returning to a slower beat when both of them smiled at him. Lovingly.

Harry reached out to the mirror, placing his hand on the reflective surface. “Mom? Dad?” he asked hesitantly. Both nodded at him and he felt, for once, that he had been loved by his parents. That he wasn’t just a mistake like his uncle had told him, unwanted and a burden. He took a step back to see both of them when another figure caught his attention. A cloak figured, tall and imposing. Only to shift into a boy, standing off to the side looking at him with a gentle, but knowing expression.

_ “It is good for you to finally see me, don’t you agree, Bizitza? _ ”

“Ilun?” Harry half-whispered, once again reaching out for the mirror. He had never thought of a physical form for his guardian, his first friend, before. 

The other chuckled, his black eyes warm, “ _ Yes, my Harry, it’s me. _ ”

“This is really how you look?” Harry whispered the Ilun could be here, with him. Not just a reflection in a mirror. To remind him, that someone cared, that he wouldn’t be left burning to a ghoul of a man. For all those instances of half hugs, and whispered comfort. 

_ “It is how I have chosen to look for you, at least for now, _ ” Ilun inclined his head, dark hair falling into his face slightly, the rest gently brushed back falling past his shoulders, contrasting nicely to his pale skin.

“For now?” Harry didn’t understand. Then he remembered that Ilun was  _ Death _ . “Why can I see you? Why can I see my parents?” Harry desperately wanted to be that boy in the mirror. The one surrounded by loving parents and with Ilun by his side. Not just as a voice in his head, but physically there. Someone he could reach out and hold onto and remind him that the ghost who haunted his mind was gone. 

“ _ The mirror is special in that it shows one’s truest desires. I am glad that you wished to see me, but I have another surprise for you, turn around.” _

Harry didn’t want to. Afraid that as he did that the image would be gone forever. The dream of a family, of all the people who loved him.

_ “It’s okay, Bizitza.” _

He turned. 

A pause, mouth gaping open. Then whispered, as if it would break the spell, as if this too was a dream and everything would come shattering around him if he spoke. “ _ Ilun?” _

_ “Yes, Harry. Samhain is a night in which I may allow others to see me. Muggles would refer to such a time as All Hallows’ Eve or Halloween _ .  _ For this one night, you can see me. _ ”

“You’re really here?” Harry reached out, but then paused a few inches away, afraid to touch, that Ilun would just distort, no more substantial than a ghost. 

“Yes, Harry,” Ilun’s voice resonated about the room, not just in his mind and a hand brushed a stray piece of hair from his face. He felt it, the hand that briefly glanced upon his cheek.

“You  _ are _ here.” Harry’s voice wobbled, half stunned and half wanting to cry. Feeling that all of a sudden that everything was too much. He had never dared to hope to actually see Ilun, to be able to reach out. He never knew it was even possible. 

“I am here, though I am sorry I was not strong enough to be there for you all those years like this. There is another of my… hallows close by from which I can draw power. For tonight, I will stay with you until the sun crests over the school once again.”

“It’s only for one night.” Ilun would be gone tomorrow, and he would once again have to face the school. Have to deal with the murmurs of freak and that the students had wished that the troll had gotten him. Harry who panicked, ran instead of trying to help out. Some Gryffindor he was. 

“Harry,” the hand brushed his cheek, “stay with me, Bizitza.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Harry put his own hand over Ilun’s, still unable to wrap his head around the fact that Ilun was really  _ here.  _

Ilun hesitated, cocking his head slightly as if in thought. A new feeling washed through him at the sight. “There is a way for me to stay with you like this…”

“How? Tell me and I’ll do it.” Harry promised. If it meant Ilun could stay, the only real constant in his life. Maybe he could keep going, just as long as he was here. 

The other boy smiled, “I know, Bizitza. If you collect all three of the Deathly Hallows, I can remain with you. You already have one,” he motioned to the shimmering cloak in his hand.

“The cloak.” Harry nodded, remembering how he could start hearing Ilun the day that ‘Kitty’ had given it to him. 

“Yes. There are two other hallows, a stone, and a wand, but do not trouble yourself with this now, we may talk more in the future. Let us enjoy this time we have.”

Ilun guided Harry to face the mirror again and they both sat down on the stone floor. To Harry’s surprise, and delight, Ilun sat behind him and wrapped his arms around him, keeping him warm as he stared at the faces of his parents. Knowing that they had died to save him and that they did love him helped soothe the deep ache which had festered for all those years at the Dursley’s. 

The warmth of the other behind him was new. He hated touch, hated how little things always brought back memories, but Ilun’s presence was calm and gentle, loving. For so long he had wanted to know what it was like to receive a hug, to be held and comforted. Ilun had always tried, but it was a ghost of what he had now, and he loved every minute of it.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been sitting there, having dozed on and off, but Ilun’s voice gently prodded him awake, “You need to return, Bizitza.”

Harry just shook his head. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to deal with stares. Though the brief flash of guilt at leaving the twins and Hermione crossed his mind. Would they be worried? Sometimes Harry wondered if they actually liked him. 

“It will be all right, Harry,” Ilun hugged him from behind, whispering into his ear. “I will still be with you.”

“Okay.” Ilun was there. It would be alright. “How much longer will you be here?”

He could wait to leave, till the very last moment. Even if it meant he had gotten no sleep. Harry didn’t want to sleep, to go back trapped in that nightmare, as the flames burned higher. 

“Would you like to wait until the sun rises?” Again, it was as if the man could read his mind.

Harry nodded. He didn’t want to move, not yet. He didn’t think he could ever get his fill of actually  _ seeing  _ his parents, of having Ilun beside him. Getting up meant leaving all of this, and dealing with all the angry adults for having run off like that. Maybe nobody noticed and he could just slink into breakfast at the great hall with none the wiser. 

“How about I start walking you back to the tower? It has been a long time since I could walk on my own,” Ilun gave him a gentle smile and then stood up, offering him a hand.

“Okay.” Harry nodded, reaching out to grasp Ilun’s hand. They ascended the handful of steps and Harry couldn’t help but look back at the mirror. He wanted to stay here, but a gentle tug on his hand had him leaving the room. Once in the hall, he realized that he had no idea where he was in the castle, the halls and portraits unfamiliar to him.

“Do not worry, Bizitza, I know the way.”

Harry offered Ilun a small tentative smile. He would literally be lost without him.

They walked down the halls, turning every so often before coming upon the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. As he turned to go, he felt another tug. A sad smile played on Ilun’s lips and he kissed Harry’s brow before disappearing, dawn’s light cresting over the far mountains.

Harry walked through the portrait and snuck up the stairs to the boys’ dorm under his,  _ Ilun’s _ , cloak. All of the first years were still asleep, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to close his eyes again tonight, not without Ilun there to hold him. Instead, he grabbed what he needed, after putting the cloak into his pocket, and went to take a shower and get ready.

The tower was still silent, but Harry didn’t want to even try to get any more rest. Instead, he grabbed his book about thestrals and crept into the common room. Picking the corner that he and Hermione had claimed for themselves to read in. The one area that was quieter and away from the hustle and bustle, half the time people would miss him sitting there. 

“Where were you?” a concerned whisper, broke Harry out of his book only to be faced with a very concerned looking Hermoine.

“I went for a walk.” Harry shrugged and merely turned another page. He probably had the book half memorized, but the information was soothing. Maybe he should go visit Ash tonight?

A huff left the bushy-haired girl and he watched from the top of his book as she plopped herself down into the other cushy chair, arms crossed over her chest. “Well, you should know that the professors were looking for you all night and will likely ask you about your ‘walk.’”

Maybe he should skip classes today? He could ask the twins to help him hide, or just go to the Forbidden Forest and visit Ash. If he waited long enough, it would blow over and the professors would forget. 

“They were able to get the troll out of the castle, though it was up on the second floor from what I heard.” Hermoine shook her head. “Anyway, just be careful okay? Tell the twins or myself the next time you need to disappear,” she paused. “I know you like time to yourself, but we are your friends, Harry, we want to help you.”

“Would you cover for me if I wanted to skip classes today?” Harry did not want to be questioned by the professors nor deal with the heavy stares of the other students. Not after that nightmare, not when he still felt odd in his own skin. 

“Only if you promise me to study and you talk to McGonagall,” Hermoine tried to look stern.

McGonagall was okay. Harry still remember the quiet of the summer and the gentle comfort that she and Pomfrey had let him soak in. They’d given him space then, maybe they would let him hide for the next few days. He nodded toward the other Gryffindor and then curled up tighter into the chair, delving back into his book. Harry felt Hermoine’s gaze on him for a few moments longer and then caught her pulling out a book and mirroring him in her own chair. The rest of the early morning quiet was blanketed in peace and for the first time, he realized what it was like to have a friend.

Harry didn’t even notice when a grey tabby curled up on one of the floor cushions next to him and Hermoine, nor the watchful weight of her gaze. 

“Morning Harry.” Fred sang as he and George popped up into their corner. 

“Pleasant day this.” George chimed in, moving to sit at a nearby couch, but didn’t see the cat on the cushion. One misplaced foot landed on her tail and the cat gave a yowl.

“Mc-McGonagall?” Fred stuttered and George’s face went white. 

Harry glanced down at the tabby, recognizing her instantly. The cat glared at both redheads, then promptly turned tail and walked away. Harry snickered, then started chuckling. 

“Yes, laugh at my misery.” George pouted.

“Revel in his anguish.” Fred slung an arm around George and gave Harry a fake teary look. Harry couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face until he caught McGonagall’s look, still in her animagus form, tail swishing back and forth.

“That was McGonagall,” Hermione asked half stunned.

The twins nodded. 

“You’ll get detention for sure,” Hermione smirked, then went back to her book. A small smile on her face. 

“You are too cruel, Hermoine dear.” 

“A shot straight through the heart that you would see our suffering increase.” George, placed both hands over his chest, above his heart. Hermoine merely shook her head. Then she glanced at Harry.

“Maybe you should go talk to her.” 

“Better now than later.” Fred agreed. 

“Please, Harry, save us from detention. We send you as our ambassador.” George knelt before Harry, both hands clasped in a plea. 

Harry closed his book, eyed the twins for a moment, then nodded. “Only if you help me skip classes.”

“It would be our most humblest honor.” Fred bowed.

We hereby will teach you the ways of skipping class, and managing mischief.” George stood up, joining his brother in a bow. 

“You two are an awful influence on Harry,” Hermoine admonished, shaking her head in distaste.

“Why, Hermoine-” Fred started

“We didn’t think you thought so well of us.” George gave her a grin. 

“Give us time,” Fred reached down and clasped Hermoine’s hand, “and you too shall succumb to our powers of persuasion.” 

“After all, we can offer you a chance to test your gifts, your intelligence.”

“In the holiest of pursuits.”

“Mischief,” Harry added, unable to help his own smile, as he hopped off of the chair. “I’ll leave the twins to you Hermoine.”

He left the common room, heading in toward the direction that McGonagall had left. 

_ “I am glad to see that you have made friends, _ ” Ilun’s voice ghosted through his mind, the soft reminder of what he had heard the previous night.

“ _ It’s not so bad,”  _ Harry acknowledged, “ _ if it’s just them.”  _ They never really bothered him about his past, nor treated him like he was different. To them, Harry was just Harry. It was all he ever wanted.


	10. Cats and Snitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lily and Kitsune: We should write fanfiction.  
> We are sorry for the delay. The world is crazy and in the midst of all of this BattleScarredKitsune defended (virtually), which was both awesome and weird. Lily was there in virtual spirit.   
> Here is the next chapter. Please R&R.  
> Lily: Harry talks about his childhood. Just as a warning for childhood abuse.

The walk to the transfiguration professor’s office was quiet and a bit odd. Harry supposed it wasn’t exactly normal to be following a cat through the halls of Hogwarts. Throughout the entire trip, Ilun remained a quiet, but warm presence around him, though a bit more than what he thought was normal.  _ Perhaps it’s because of last night? _

_ “Ilun? I’m okay now,”  _ he wanted to assure his companion.

_ “I know, Bizitza, but allow me to worry over you.” _ When they arrived in her office, McGonagall transformed back into her natural form and moved with all of her feline grace to a pair of chairs by a crackling fire.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Potter,” she gestured to the empty seat opposite her. “Now, if you will tell me what happened? None of the teachers could find you, Professor Quirrell said you ran off, may I inquire as to why?”

_ “It is okay, Bizitza, you may tell her the truth, or as much as you feel you can . _ ”

“He… he scared me, reminded me of my uncle when he grabbed me.”

The stern professor opposite him stood up straighter, eyes boring into his own. “Professor Quirrell grabbed you? Are you sure?” Harry nodded shyly, almost afraid at the tone of voice. “Please tell me exactly what happened.” Haltingly, he did. There were times where he had to just take in deep breaths, the dancing of the flames and Ilun’s steady presence the only things keeping him from yet another panic attack.

“I see,” McGonagall stated in clipped tones. “Mr. Potter,” she stood up in a fluid of robes, “if you would follow me.”

Quickly standing, Harry rushed to keep up with the transfiguration teacher. “Professor, where are we going?”

“I would like you to see Poppy. I know you do not like people checking after you, but for your well being, I believe it must be done as your head of the house. Now come along.” The fast pace put them in front of the doors to the medical wing in mere minutes, Harry felt as if he was in the middle of Quidditch practice rather than simply walking down the halls of Hogwarts.

“Poppy,” McGonagall directed to the mediwitch.

“Yes, Minerva?” she looked over from her desk, “Oh! And Mr. Potter. I do hope this has nothing to do with that dreadful sport you have taken an interest in, horrible game that is.”

“No, I am afraid we are here on a different matter. Poppy, I would like to ask that you give Mr. Potter a full medical exam and that all results are kept between the three of us, including away from the headmaster.” The mediwitch seemed to blink for a moment before a crisp nod and a quick flurry of movement had her herding Harry toward one of the beds, wand already swishing through the air. It was nothing like what muggles would do at a doctor’s office. Instead of him being poked and prodded with instruments or things he didn’t recognize, he simply felt the flutter of magic swirl around him.

After what felt like hours, but was likely just mere minutes, Madam Pomfrey stopped, her wand now hidden away in her robes once again. Throughout the entire procedure, a scroll had been floating in between him and the mediwitch, completely ignored. Now, however, the mediwitch plucked the scroll from where it hovered and with the click of her heels, moved toward a nearby chair. Harry knew what was on the scroll as he watched the witch’s mouth tighten. She and McGonagall spoke for a moment before they both came back to the bed.

“Mr. Potter,” she started after setting the scroll down on a small table next to her, “I see here that you have had a very difficult life, more than perhaps a boy your age should have had. I will not ask that you tell us everything that has occurred, but I would like to know how you are dealing with everything that has transpired. Your body was healed according to my results, not to the best of abilities, but enough. I can help you with your physical maladies, but with everything that has happened and the panic attack you have had, I suggest we find someone to help you. I will make you a calming drought, but you must take it sparingly, I do not want you dependent on a potion. Understood?” Harry nodded solemnly, feeling almost chastised. “Good, now, how many of these attacks have you had?” He quietly answered all the questions the matron asked of him, taking shuddering breaths from time to time. Eventually, the questions ceased and Harry took in a breath of relief.

“ _ They are simply worried about you. Let them, _ ” Ilun’s voice carried over the timber of his thoughts.

_ “I wish they wouldn’t know, wouldn’t see how broken and  _ used _ and freakish I am. _ ”

_ “Harry,” _ his guardian’s voice a sharp reprimand, “ _ Never say that. You are perfect the way you are and nothing they learn about you will change how they see you.” _

“Perhaps,” Madam Pomfrey’s voice cut through his mental response, “I could recommend you to one of the staff, while I see if I can find a mediwizard or witch with this expertise.”  _ On the staff? Who...? _

“Poppy, he can speak with me on these matters,” McGonagall cut in.

“I am aware that you have a responsibility as head of his house, but Minerva, there may be another who has a better understanding of the situation.”

“You cannot be suggesting-”

“Mr. Potter,” a drawl carried through the medwing, “you were not in class today. I find it appalling to miss such important material.” The potions master waltzed into the room, setting a tray of potions on Madam Pomfrey’s desk.

“Professor Snape,” McGonagall nodded to the potions professor. “Mr. Potter has my permission to recuperate after recent ordeals.”

“I’m sure that Mr. Potter needs not to be coddled, after all, he has already proven himself against the Dark Lord.” Harry bristled at the comment, but kept his head down. He knew better than to argue, it only meant more pain.

“Severus,” McGonagall admonished.

“Actually,” Madam Pomfrey intervened, “I have a request for you.”

“Oh?” he drawled out again, seeming bored of the whole affair.

“Yes, I wish you to talk to Mr. Potter. I think you will find the two of you have more in common than you think.”

“What?” the word was out of his mouth even before the thought of what he had done registered. “Talk to  _ him?” _ In an instant he froze, all three adults looking at him for a moment, but his eyes locked with black.

_ “Be calm, Bizitza, he does not mean you harm. Like much of the world, very few understand him.” _

_ “I don’t want to talk with him. He hates me.” _

“So Mr. Potter will finally deign me with his presence? How quaint. The hour after your potions class, I expect you there, understood?”

“Yes,” Harry barely bit out before black robes swirled and the potions master strode out of the wing.

The quidditch match, though terrifying, was a breath of fresh air. The last week had felt suffocating and the meeting with Snape had been… horrifying. For an hour, neither of them had spoken and Harry ended up mostly cleaning potion flasks. Though even he had to admit the man was brilliant at potions. During that hour, despite the few snide glares, Harry tried to pay attention to the potions the other had been brewing, making mental notes all the while.

_ “I do not understand why I must keep going. We have nothing in common and he treats me as if I am some horrid creature in his midst!” _

_ “Bizitza-” _

_ “Why can’t I just talk to McGonagall? At least she listens-” _

_ “Harry!”  _ Ilun’s voice finally registered, along with an exasperated chuckle.

_ “I am glad you are starting to understand your emotions and are freer about confronting them, but perhaps this is a conversation best left for  _ after _ your match.” _

_ “Oh… right, _ ” Harry ducked shyly, earning a few concerned glances from his teammates as they finished putting on their gear.

“It’s okay to be nervous, but you don’t need to worry Harry,” Oliver tried to comfort. “You’ll do fine. Just catch the snitch. That’s all you have to do.”

“Were you nervous for your first game?” Harry tried to be conversational, still becoming used to the act.

“Old Ollie here took a bludger to the head.” Fred threw an arm over Harry’s shoulder, guiding him towards the Quidditch pitch.

“Woke up a week later, probably doesn’t remember a thing.” George grinned, winding his own arm over Fred’s. “But don’t worry Harry, we won’t let any bludgers come near you,” he swung his bat in emphasis.

Harry found himself steered toward the pitch between the twins, the volume of screams and yelling becoming a cacophony on his ears. His stomach fell toward the earth.  _ I’m so glad I didn’t have lunch. _ The roar of the crowds became ever louder as the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams created a circle in the middle of the field.

“Now I want a nice clean game from all of you,” Madam Hooch ordered, meeting the eyes of each player. “Good, now mount up!” She kicked the box by her feet letting all but the quaffle shoot into the air. A moment passed before she blew her whistle and the quaffle tossed in the air. Everyone moved.

The wind passed by him as Harry shot into the air, wanting to be able to see the whole pitch while he searched for his ever elusive goal, the snitch not yet making itself known. Below him, Harry watched as the other players flew to and fro across the field, bludgers being swatted like angry canon balls at the other team. The whirl of a large object was his only warning before he dodged a bludger that was sent his way. A quick glance around showed a sneering Marcus Flint passing a bat back to one of his teammates.

_ “Harry, _ ” Ilun’s voice was worried,  _ “be careful. This game is notorious for broken bones, among other injuries.” _

_ “Thanks for the tip.” I see why Madam Pomfrey hates the game now.  _ As if the world knew his thoughts, he cringed as Oliver took a bludger straight in the chest, falling to the grass below in a heap.

His attention was caught by a flash of light to his left. Steering his broom toward the glinting gold, he rushed after the snitch. The golden orb whizzed and dodged through the mess of people and brooms and Harry leaned forward, clutching the Nimbus as close as he could to barrel down on the small prize. Next to him in his periphery, he saw black and green, the Slytherin seeker, trying to keep pace with him as they both conducted a harrowing dive toward the ground.

Every second they were closer to the solid earth, yet the snitch continued its descent. The other seeker pulled back when they were meters from the ground, yet Harry continued onward, not letting the snitch out of his sight. At the last possible moment, truly only a few feet from the grass, he pulled up his broom and reached for the snitch. The golden ball remained so close yet impossibly out of his reach. 

In a last ditch effort, Harry stood on his broom, and reached completely forward balancing precariously on the Nimbus. His fingers brushed gently along the metal surface and he jumped from the broom to wrap his fingers around the snitch, clutching his prize safely to his chest. The ground rushed up to meet him and he slid to a halt in the grass, lying on his back and only raising his arm in victory when he was sure the world was no longer moving.

Cheers erupted again around him, as if his daring maneuver had quieted the entire ring and several, large dark figures surrounded him and two familiar voices shouting above the others.

“Harry!” George cheered, pushing aside the others. Harry waved, attempting to take a steady breath. There were too many people. 

_ “Calm yourself, Bizitza, all is well. You did well for your first game, _ ” Ilun’s voice was a gentle balm to the cacophony surrounding Harry.

“Hey everyone!” Fred shouted, gesturing to the crowd. “Party in the Grynfindor common room. We’ve smuggled in some butter beer!”

The crowd cheered, before rushing out like waves sweeping past him and the twins. Only the twins, Harry and Oliver remained. 

“Thank you, Harry!” Olive grabbed at Harry’s hands, while Harry narrowly avoided flinching at the sudden touch. “We’ve got a chance, a real chance this year to win the cup! First year being captain. And what a  _ dive _ ! I’ve never seen the like. Maybe we can name the move after you are something.” A flash of irritation gnawed at Harry’s mind, but then fluttered away like the wind.

“Yeah.” The snitch hovered over Harry’s head as if begging to be caught again.

“Excellent win, Harry.” Hermione moved as if to hug him, but halted. “I knew you could do it. I saw your father’s name in the records. I’m sure your parents would be proud of you as well.”

Harry paused. He hadn’t known that his father was a seeker. “ _ Ilun?” _

_ “Yes?” _ his ever-watchful guardian soothed him.

“ _ Did you know?”  _ Did McGonagall? The headmistress implied that she knew his parents but hadn’t ever really talked to them.

“ _ I know of his life, but I believe it would be best for you to learn of your parents in your own time.” _

“ _ I guess,”  _ Harry nodded, swiping to grab the snitch once again, studying the way the light glinted off the golden ball. His father had played this position when he was at school. He hadn’t known if he had anything in common with his parents. Didn’t even know what type of people they were like. The ball fluttered in his hands. He wondered at the image he saw in the mirror and if he could ever talk with them again. 

_ “You parents are already beyond my reach,”  _ Ilun added. 

“ _ I think I just want to know more about them. The Dursleys...”  _ Harry paused. He hadn’t thought about them, not really, since that terrible Halloween night. Hogwarts felt like an odd dream, one that could shatter at any moment and he would find himself back in that cupboard, counting the seconds till the whole house was asleep and he could sneak some food. “ _ They didn’t talk about them.” _

_ “Perhaps you will find answers here.” _

_ “Yeah.” _ Harry curled his hand around the snitch, looking up back at the castle and all the secrets it held. 

November passed quickly. The classes picked up pace as they were loaded with last minute school work before the break. Most of the students would be heading home for the holidays. Right before the holidays let out, the world turned to a snowy winter land. Cold crisp air danced with snowflakes and the lake had frozen solid. Harry had caught sight of the twins bewitching snowballs to chase after the back of Professor Quirells turbin. Even Hermione had found that a little funny as the two rushed back inside, unable to hand the cold.

“Will you be alright over the break, Harry?” Hermione asked the first day of break. Those leaving would be setting off on the Hogwarts Express today. Her bag packed at her feet, ready to be whisked away. “I can still tell my parents I want to stay and I don’t think McGonagall will mind.”

“We’ve got him, Herms.” George slowly placed an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“No,” Hermione wrinkled her nose. “That’s terrible. Do not call me that.”

“As you wish, Mione.” Fred gave a mock bow. 

“That’s not any better. Just use my name.” Hermione grabbed her backpack. “Anyway I should be off. I don’t wish to be late. I’ll be back right after Christmas. Do try and stay out of trouble, Harry.”

“I never look for trouble,” Harry defended, giving her a small smile. “Have a happy holiday.”

“Oh, can I just give you a hug?” Hermione sighed. 

“I guess.” A second later, he found himself squeezed tight. She let go, grabbed her bag and rushed off, likely terrified that the train would leave without her. Harry wondered what it would be like to be welcomed back by a family that actually wanted you. 

“Alright, Harry.” Fred grinned at him. George wore a masking one. “We have been conniving, and we finally discover the secrets of this most excellent map.”

Fred whisked it out with a flourish. The title was Marauders’ Map on a folded piece of old parchment. Then in eerie unison, the twins chanted, “I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.” The parchment unfolded, and Harry watched as the entire construction of Hogwarts appeared before them. Complete with little icons for their names and footprints. There were dozens more footprints for the other students. 

“We have found a way into the wonderful, indstruous Hogsmeade.” 

“A secret tunnel, if you will.”

“And thought you enjoy a bit of a vacation.”

“A small reprieve while taking in the sights of Hogsmeade. They even have a joke shop. And we, like any good mentors, have decided in this bout of free time.”

“And without Hermione, interference.”

“We shall teach you our ways, oh, young apprentice.” 

_ “Please be careful, Harry, _ ” the exasperation in Ilun’s voice, making Harry invision him shaking his head.  _ “I know they mean well, but you court danger with every step already. Do not tempt fate, she is not one with whom to be trifled. _ ”

“Who made the map?” Harry asked Fred and George, curious about how anyone could spend time to write down all the unpredictability of Hogwarts. 

“The Marauders. A Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. A bunch of bastards though, wouldn’t give up answers on how to work this map for  _ months _ . It’s been a bit of a side project of ours since the semester began and we nicked it from Filch. But we thought you might wish to join us in an adventure.”

“This,” George gestured to a statue of a one eye witch, “should lead us directly to the basement of Honeydukes. The owner is already fond of us so we should be golden for getting in and buying sweets to our hearts content, my friend.”

“Then we can go get butterbeer.” Fred added. “So what say you, want to join us in our exploration?”

“Sure, but I have a better idea.”

_ “Harry…” _ the warning in Ilun’s voice clear.

“You can control who hears you right?” Harry asked, knowing that Ilun knew what he was getting. 

“Of course,” his ever-watching guardian responded easily.

“What are you holding out from us?” Both twins leaned forward, their eyes almost dancing with delight. 

“This.” Harry brought out the invisibility cloak with a flourish, hearing a silent sigh in the back of his head. The cloak he kept at all times, in his pocket, unwilling to be separate from it.

“Is that-”

“An invisibility cloak.” The twins reached out, hands touching the fabric in awe and reverence. “Where did you manage to get this? It’s unlike any we’ve seen, and believe us, we’ve looked.” 

“It was given to me from my father by a… catty friend,” Harry grinned at his play on words, hoping McGonagall wouldn’t hear of this.

“Keep your mysterious, oh wise apprentice.” Fred smiled wide. “But this will most definitely aid in our endeavor.” 

“Can we wear it?” George asked, fingers still trailing over the silky fabric. 

“Sure,” Harry swirled the cloak to cover the three of them, disappearing from the view. The cloak ruffled around Harry, as if giving a light caress before settling to cover the three of them. 

“I imagine it would be awkward to move around in this.” Fred shifted, noting the size of it. “You should wear it, so we don’t get into too much trouble for dragging a firstie out past school grounds. Just let us know if you want anything and we’ll get it for you.” 

Harry followed them through the castle corridors, amazed by how warm the underground passage was to Hogsmeade. The twins filled him in on details of the town as they walked, though it just appeared as if they were talking to each other. They even used the map to avoid running into any professors and Mr. Filch's cat, Ms. Norris. 

The scent of sugar washed over him as they opened the trapped door into the what must be the basement of Honeydukes. 

“We’re lucky that today is a Hogsmeade weekend for the students that stayed for the break.” Fred nodded. 

“We won’t draw that much attention by being here.” George agreed, then lowered his voice. “Now Harry just let us know what you want and we’ll get it for you. We’ve saved up a bit of our allowance for today.”

“I have a couple of coins. Though I haven’t really grasped the money system yet.” He pulled out his purse, “will these do?”

Fred opened the bag, “These are galleons.”

“Yeah, I thought they were important.” Harry nodded. 

“Okay.” George hummed. “You’re covered. Just um-”

“I’ll get your sweets too, as thanks for showing me the short cut.”

“We don’t want to take advantage-”

“But we also aren’t going to protest.” Geroge shoved Fred. “Thank you, oh wonderful friend.”

“Magnanimous apprentice.” Fred nodded. “We shall give you a tour of Hogsmeade that is worthy of your generosity.”

“It’s fine. Use it to buy some jokes.”

“As you command.” The twins bowed. “Now are you ready for a day out in town?” With that they lead the way into the sweet shop. There were only a handful of older students buying what must be last minute gifts for relatives, by the sheer number of purchases. Harry drifted off to look at the various sweets, as Fred and George fought to get to the front of the crowd. Likely doing gift shopping themselves. Though most of their family had gone off to Romania to visit Charlie. Dragon taming, cool Charlie. Harry felt a little envious and appreciated that the twins decided to stay with him over going to see  _ dragons.  _ Another wave of some harcher emotion passed by before Harry could make heads or tails of it.

“Ginny and Ron like the chocolate frogs. Let’s get those for them.” Fred came back towards where Harry was staying. “Is there anything  _ else  _ we should get?”

Harry discreetly dropped a few of the honey sweets, and one pack of Bernie’s every flavored bean. Fred immediately picked those up and moved to pay for them, along with a dozen more chocolate frogs. 

“Well, we best be off. Next stop the Three Broomsticks. They have a few quiet corners to enjoy a warm drink of butterbeer. Ready to go?” George said the comment to Fred, but his eyes glanced to the general direction where Harry was standing. Harry nudged against the twins, letting them know he was there, as he followed them out. 

As they walked past the dozen small shops, Fred stopped. “Look at the  _ owls _ .”

“Best to avoid going in,” George pulled at Fred. “Owls are pricey.”

“I want to go in.” Harry added, causing the twins to jump. “It’ll be fun to see all the animals.”

“If that’s the case.” They opened the doors for Harry. A cacophony of owls hooting, rats chirping, and cats meowing greeted him. All the owls were tucked away in their cages, and there were a dozen cats just sunning themselves in random spots. Harry caught sight of an ugly orange one with a smushed face, tucked neatly away on one of the upper shelves, lurking above one of the mice that must have gotten free. 

“Blasted cat.” The owner reached for a broom to go after the beast. “No wonder no one wants him.”

“Why don’t we help you?” The twins spoke the same.

“Oh, customers. Please excuse me,” then he studied the twins. “If you catch that cat then he’s yours. No one else wants him and he’s more of a pest than anything else.”

“Yeah. No problem. Here kitty, kitty.” Fred beckoned the cat towards him, chirping his tongue. The cat ignored him. George moved to grab the ladder from the cat, only for the cat to leap down, launching past Fred towards Harry. Harry blocked the cat, only for Fred to swoop down, catching the beast and getting a scratch for his trouble.

George took the cat, and grabbed it by its scruff until it stopped squirming. “Well he’s at least fast.” 

“Here’s a cage for him. Please take him off my hands.” The owner brought out a small crate, there was even a food bowl and some kibble tucked inside as well. “Is there anything else we could interest you in. We have a lovely selection of owls.”

“It’s an eastern barn owl.” Fred paused before a speckled white owl, with wings tipped with gold. He reached out a hand into the cage, and it nuzzled against his fingers. Wings fluttering out, and letting out a gentle coo. 

“We would like to have that one,” Harry mimicked one of the twins, sliding a few coins into Fred’s hand.

“Wonderful! Let me just take that from you.” The owner grabbed the coins. “I’ll provide some food for you as thanks and the cage isn’t anything extra.” He disappeared for a second then came back with the change. “Thank you so much for your purchases, Sir. Hope you have a happy holiday.”

The twins nodded at the same time, entirely mute. Only a soft chuckle next to them made them hurry on their way, still dumbfoundedly holding the two cages. It wasn’t till they were halfway up the street leading towards the Three Broomsticks that George spoke, glancing down in awe at the owl.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“Why? Aren’t I supposed to be learning from the best? Shouldn’t I be practicing my mischief?”

_ “Harry, you are more cunning than you know,”  _ a pleased chuckle reverberated through his mind.

“My dear Gred,” George turned to Fred as they entered the Three Broomsticks.

“What is it, old Forge?” Fred gestured towards one of the quiet corners that was blocked off from most eyes.

“We’ve created a monster.” George shook his head at Harry, who pulled off his cloak. Harry grinned at them unrepentantly, reaching out to stroke the head of the owl. He knew better than to bother the ornery cat.

“Well, gentlemen, I’ll go get our beverages. And the two of you can decide what to do with our feline acquisition as well as debate names for Owly here.” Fred nodded and then returned with their drinks.

“You know who love this mangy mess?”

“Hermione.” The three of the same said together and they each took a sip of butterbeer utterly content.


End file.
